Something
by colouredred
Summary: Of all the things that could come of her lies, this was the least expected. It was an uneasy friendship, riddled with arguments and silly sentiments. Neither could have predicted just how much their little something became so dear to them both - though Aomine certainly never regretted it. Daiki Aomine/OC
1. literally, rather than poetically

**I'm so happy to be finally uploading this! I spent a good few months writing out all the chapters (short though they are) and so the entire story is finished and completed. Because of this, updates will be regular and this story won't be abandoned.**

**Disclaimer: 'Kuroko no Basuke' isn't owned by me. Any OCs featured are mine, however.**

**Please enjoy!**

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**_1 – literally, rather than poetically_**

If there were one thing Daiki Aomine would never admit to himself, it would be his imperfections. He would never willingly reconcile with his wrongdoings, the inevitable mistakes that came so often as a consequence of life and of living. If ever he came to commit one of these, he would deny it.

It was his opinion that the further away from being human he was, the better.

This too also included being away from _humans _in general. He liked being alone, for the solitude allowed silence and required no effort. Perhaps a small part of him would argue that, if he was without company, then he could do no one else any harm; that part of him was small, and kept locked away and buried under years of arrogance and apathy, and defeated opponents. However both options, laziness or thoughtfulness, were adequate explanations as to why he was out so late at night, avoiding the stifling company of his parents.

Though it was still summer, his breath became smoke in the cool night's air. Later, he would wonder if, with solitude being is goal, it would not have better suited him to have gone home instead. In that moment, however, he didn't realise this.

His company announced itself rather unexpectedly, and incoherently.

"Uhnf!" This exclamation was shortly followed by a sharp, "_Ow!"_

Slowly, surprised, Aomine let his gaze fall towards the ground. He had to admit, even when compared to his own height, that she was tall. It wasn't until she stumbled back after colliding with him that he was able to see more than just her lank, black hair.

"Watch where you're going." He growled.

The girl glanced up, bewildered. _"What?"_

"Watch it." Aomine repeated, this time with more bite.

She stared at him. "Are you an idiot?"

Aomine frowned, in turn becoming perplexed. He considered just walking away, and ignoring her completely.

"_You_ walked into _me_," she continued to explain, eyes narrowing, "So _you_ should apologise."

"If that's what you think, it seems like you're the only idiot here."

She inhaled deeply, her chest swelling. Aomine absently noted that she was barely a b-cup; that, coupled with her attitude and severe, intimidating features, immediately turned him off.

Without warning, he felt his body jerk forward. He scowled, his fists clenching even as her own hand gripped his shirt.

"You think you're so tough." She spat.

He leaned forward, arching over her as though it could ever intimidate her. He might pretend it would, but it was obvious she was not the type.

"I could crush you-" Aomine declared.

"You wouldn't even get _close_."

"-like an _ant_."

"Keep dreaming."

"I can prove it, right here."

"Go ahead."

"I will."

"_Sure you will_."

The girl's hand was still fisted in his white top, yanking him even closer as the tension rose to unbelievable heights. By his side, Aomine began to stretch his fingers out in preparation because, like all poor, misguided people, he believed in equality and if he would hit a guy, then why should a girl be any different? It was also his opinion the person before him was only just barely that–a girl.

But before he could even resolve the internal conflict, it was ended for him.

The next thing Aomine knew, the girl's hand had left his shirt, and she was tumbling away from him. He was close enough to watch the change in her expression with intense detail – her brown eyes widening, corners of her lips tugging into an even fiercer scowl.

"Rika!" cried a sharp voice, "I told you not to run off again."

Swiftly and decisively, also now ignoring Aomine, the girl – Rika, apparently, was her name – turned around. "I didn't run off, you just walked slower than me." She argued coolly.

As his way blocked by the two figures, Aomine shifting himself slightly to left, peering around Rika and to the newcomer. His initial impression wasn't exceptional. The person was a boy of reasonable height, who wore a loose jacket, pants and striped scarf that gave away no clues as to his physic. Considering the boy's androgynous, if slightly more femininely-inclined features, Aomine felt it safe to decide he was nothing more than _weak_.

"Just because you're taller than me. It's not fair that you get to be taller and I'm the guy." The boy shot back.

Like Rika, he had dark hair, albeit it differed in that it was both curly and shorter. Perhaps they were related. Or, given her brown eyes and his murky green, perhaps they weren't. They certainly argued with the familiarity of siblings – though the concept was relatively foreign to Aomine, who had no siblings at all.

"And," the boy declared, seeming to recover his original thoughts, "the point is you always get in trouble when I'm not around."

"It's not my fault. This jerk was asking for it." Rika protested irritably, gesturing towards Aomine.

"Not my fault you ran into me." defended Aomine, growing steadily bored.

The boy huffed irritably, breath steaming from his lips. He stepped around Rika, readjusting the bag on his shoulder, inadvertently drawing attention to the baseball bat peeking over his shoulder and the convoluted scar racing across his left hand.

Aomine had a feeling that they were used to such strangeness as he was witnessing.

"I hope you don't mind, but there's no way you'll get Rika to apologise to you." He informed nonchalantly, as if only mildly interested – something which Aomine could relate to.

"Whatever, I'm leaving anyway." Aomine replied, already beginning to walk around the pair.

So much for being alone, he thought bitterly.

"Pretentious ass." grumbled Rika.

But Aomine had already decided that he wouldn't be troubled by them any longer. By now, he had walked too far away, and there was no way they would be worth the effort.

In the distance, the boy could be heard, muttering a reply. "I agree."

Aomine almost changed his mind – _almost_. Maybe if he had, things might have gone a little differently.

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**So, how was it? I know not a lot about the plot might be clear at this point, which is why the first two chapters (which introduce the story) will be uploaded at the same time so that you can read on and get a better idea of what you're in for. Following, updates will be weekly.**

**For those of you who don't know, 'Rika' is a character who appears in my Murasakibara/OC oneshot 'Deep Down' and the two stories could be interpreted as if they were set during the same time (though it's never explicitly stated).**

**I hope you're interested in reading more! Please don't hesitate to message me if you have any questions. Thanks :) **


	2. it was always unkempt

**As promised, the second chapter.**

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**_2 – it was always unkempt_**

Late that afternoon, just as with everything else in her life, Yasuka found herself in a mess.

Though she usually took exemplary care of her appearance, especially when in a situation that put her under the public's eye, she had figured it unnecessary when she was simply visiting the corner store for her mum. A pleated black skirt, baggy shirt, a face clear of makeup and the tangled curls of her un-brushed hair were all what Yasuka considered underdressed to be.

If it hadn't have been for her desire for a bag of chips, she might not have come at all.

Yasuka, not particularly tall or short, was now kneeling at the height of a child, staring at the rows of food before her. She was faced with the inevitably tough decision of which flavour to buy. She had the basket by her side, already holding the milk and bread her mum had asked for.

Under her breath, she muttered her internal debate, "Chicken, or barbeque?"

As the doors slid open for a new costumer, a bell rung. It reached Yasuka's ears distantly.

"Or perhaps salt and vinegar…"

While she thought, Yasuka pressed her finger to her chaffed lips. "Barbeque, or chicken?" she murmured out loud again.

"Why don't you just get both?"

To reply was instinctive. "Mind your own business."

In those quick two seconds it took her to reply, Yasuka wondered how she could be so stupid.

She knew that voice, and, unfortunately, she also knew who they were. She had hoped to avoid meeting anyone she knew.

Here and now, her pride and reputation was at stake – and Daiki Aomine stood above her.

His shadow was cast over her, so that when she looked up the lighting made him seem even more tan-skinned than usual. He looked just the same as she recalled from middle school, muscular, with that odd blue hair and glaring eyes. The only differences were, now that he – and Yasuka herself – were in their second year of high school, he was a great deal taller and far more experienced in the art of intimidation.

The smallest of all detectable smirks spread across Aomine's face.

Startled and more than a little disgruntled, Yasuka forgot about her chips and stood swiftly.

"That was rude." He remarked casually.

"What do you want, Aomine?" sighed Yasuka, hoping to leave before she caused any more damage to herself.

"You're name's Yasuka Nakamura, right?" Aomine replied, eyes glued to the hand on the basket.

She shifted uncomfortably. Her scarf, white with black stripes, sat within the basket, along with the bread and milk her mum wanted. It was surprising he even knew her name.

"Yeah. Why?"

Aomine frowned. "Yasuka Nakamura." He murmured, as if committing the name to memory.

"What does-?"

"Here."

Without hesitation and in accordance with his statement, Aomine proceeded to unceremoniously empty the contents of his hands into her basket. A cascade of chocolate bars fell like a shining waterfall. Yasuka stared at them, wondering _what had happened_ but then tightening her grip on the handles and asking the better question of _why._

Her green eyes flashed angrily, turning towards Aomine to pin him down. He met her gaze easily.

"You owe me." was all he offered as explanation.

"For what?"

"Go buy them. I'm hungry."

"Why?"

"I told you, you owe me."

"I owe you for _what? Explain this right now._"

As if somehow pleased by the aggravated response, Aomine shoved his hands into his jacket and his lips twisted upwards, smug.

"That's more like it," he ascertained, "More like how you were the other night."

"What are-?"

"You were wearing the stupid scarf, and you were dressed _differently_. You owe me for tricking me into thinking you were a guy." Aomine elaborated. To the outsider, it sounded like nothing of exceptional importance, but Yasuka's reaction indicated anything other.

Delighted, Aomine's grin widened. "I recognise you, Nakamura. You have the same scar on your hand as the person with that Rika-chick did."

"No- Well, u-um…"

It was impossible to deny.

If one were to look down her left arm, they would indeed spot a line of scar tissue racing across the back of her hand. Though she might twist it around the handle of her basket, Aomine already knew, and to hide it was futile.

"Go and buy these," he commanded, "or there'll be consequences."

Yasuka had to bite her tongue to keep from snapping back. Though Aomine might sound nonchalant in his threats, she knew he was not someone to be taken lightly.

It was because of this that she swallowed her bitter words, instead forcing herself to reply, "Fine."

Aomine didn't react, didn't press her to hurry any quicker, leaving it to Yasuka to make her own proceedings from there.

Sniffing at the overbearing manner exuded by ace basketball player Aomine, she stepped around him. It seemed that he didn't move, as Yasuka reached the counter and didn't hear his footsteps.

"Hi." The cashier, a middle-aged man, greeted her cheerfully.

Immediately adopting a smile, Yasuka replied in turn. "Hi."

She unpacked her basket, bread, milk and several of Aomine's candy bars. Absently, she wondered if he were watching–it certainly felt like he was.

As the cashier began to scan the items, Yasuka paid careful attention to Aomine as he began to slink towards the doors. Though he looked over at her once, he seemed extremely focused on ignoring her, almost as if pretending nothing were wrong.

"That comes to- Miss?"

"Oh." Yasuka jerked back to attention, before forking over the money from her pocket. "Thanks." She mumbled.

The cashier nodded with a half-smile, depositing the change into Yasuka's palm. Not concerned with appearances and manners, she grabbed the bag of her goods and turned away without as much as another word. Navigating through the few isles of the small corner store, Yasuka reached the doors just as Aomine was walking out.

She huffed, irritated that she was just expected to follow, but conceded she had no other choice. The sun, still bright but sinking lower and lower as the afternoon wore on, hit her in a wave as she left. The departing warmth of the day left her wishing for a jacket.

Aomine paused along the footpath. "Nakamura." He ordered, turning around to her only slightly.

"Slow down!" she cried back, marching towards him, "What's the point of having me buy something for you if you're not going to take it?"

The blue-haired student didn't react in anyway, except than to offer an offhand, "I was going over to the seat."

Yasuka's eyes latched onto the metal bench not far off. "Right." She replied dumbly, regretting everything she had ever said all at once.

As she contemplated her entire life, every existing moment and spoken word, the silence grew in both tension and awkwardness. She wished she was far away, and had a sneaking suspicion Aomine felt the same. Like someone on a leash, at least a metaphorical one at least, Yasuka obediently followed him to the seat.

There, he sat, and Yasuka did not; only placed her bag down to hand Aomine his candy bars.

He acknowledged her with a grunt, shoving his blackmailed goods into the pockets of his fur-lined jacket.

"What are you so worked up about?" Aomine asked after a while.

Yasuka crossed her arms. "Why'd you blackmail me?"

He shrugged. "Curious. You're defeated very easily."

"Only because you blackmailed me."

"You let me."

"After you threatened me."

"Why so touchy about people knowing you're a cross dresser?"

It was then that the anger bubbled to the surface. Ripples across the façade of calm she adopted suddenly appeared, and Yasuka overflowed.

She slammed her hand to the back of the chair beside Aomine. "Don't you dare tell _anyone_." She hissed, to his mild surprise.

"Yeah, yeah-"

"And-," Yasuka didn't hesitate to cut him off, "-don't you think that, even for a _second_, you can ever defeat me."

It was a challenge, whether she intended it to be or not. When Aomine smiled, slowly, with sly intimidation, he accepted this. Yasuka knew it, and wondered why it always seemed that she brought these things upon herself.

She really did have a poor choice in company.

"I think you could be interesting." Aomine remarked.

She tossed the jaw-length waves of her hair from her eyes. "I'm going to take that as a compliment."

After a second of consideration, the blue haired man said, randomly, "Wonder it's like to get to be both genders."

"Dress up as a girl and find out."

Aomine scowled fiercely, as if displeased. As she was right to do, Yasuka found herself taking offence to the reaction.

"I'd pay to see that." She muttered, hoping to irritate him further in revenge.

She waited there for a few more seconds, loitering about in case there was anything further that needed discussing. After half a minute of Aomine looking in any direction that wasn't hers, Yasuka decided they were finished.

"See you at school, Daiki Aomine."

He didn't reply, which wasn't entirely unusual; he hadn't even thanked her for the candy. She considered what she knew of him, by reputation and rumour.

She agreed with one thing, at least – _rude._

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**Reviews and feedback are welcome, as well as constructive criticism. From here on, updates will be weekly (maybe earlier, if the mood strikes).**


	3. who means to fight dirty

**Woah the days go fast. Thanks to all those who've already favourited!**

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**_3 – who means to fight dirty_**

When the bell rang and lunchtime came, Yasuka could barely eat. This, of course, made sense given that she could barely process what was happening to her, much less any food.

Her disbelief did nothing to stop the chair being turned to face her, nor the person from sitting with her.

It had been three days since Aomine's unfortunate discovery of her double life. Her secret identity as a boy – 'Yasuo' was the name she'd given her male self – was in jeopardy, along with the after-dark lifestyle she'd been leading with that cover. Since the creation of Yasuo in her last year at middle school, Yasuka had continued the ruse even into her second year at high school, almost two years later.

That someone had found out after all that time was incredibly irritating. Of course it had to be Aomine, of all people, who managed that.

Though she might thank him for keeping her secret, Yasuka would definitely not do the same when he took a seat at her desk that lunchtime.

"Daiki Aomine," Yasuka greeted him with a strained smile, "What do want?"

"Are you always this eager to please, or is it just me?"

"Why should it be exclusive to you?" she retorted, testing him.

Aomine understood her double meaning, and seemed to grow amused. "No reason."

He leaned forward in his chair, stretching over to her desk and proceeding to dump a plastic-wrapped sandwich there. Yasuka watched has his fingers deftly unwrapped it–most of the time she struggled to even just tear them open.

"Seriously though; why are you here?" Yasuka pressed.

"To eat." He answered honestly.

"I never knew you were so social."

Aomine shrugged, before delicately beginning to consume his lunch. Given the precarious balance of tomato, lettuce and ham inside, she was surprised when it didn't explode.

"Mphh mmph mphph." Aomine tried to say, unintelligible given his full mouth.

Yasuka turned towards the window, reserved both in light of her public situation and his disgustingness. "What was that?" she asked politely.

Though she tried to act as she usually did at school, every sentence she said felt stretched, stiff on her tongue. Anyone that made her act so oddly placed her in a vulnerable position, and were also the types of people Yasuka usually left alone.

Aomine swallowed. "Why aren't you eating?"

"Not hungry."

"Something on your mind?"

"Should there be?"

"Tch. You need to learn to give straight answers."

With a successful smile gracing her androgynously-plain features, Yasuka found herself saying, "But where's the fun in that?"

Obviously bitter that she had yet again outsmarted him – which, honestly, wasn't that hard to do – Aomine gave a sort of vague disgruntled murmur of noise. He continued to eat noisily, purposely being irritating. When he leant back onto the chair, the blue-haired man stretched out his legs. Yasuka grimaced when he kicked her; 'accidently', she assumed.

"Aomine, how is _this_ in any way satisfying to you?"

He glanced up, blue eyes both disinterested yet striking regardless. It was remarkable how simultaneously contrasting he could be.

"This?" he questioned.

"This." Yasuka confirmed. "Blackmailing me just for chocolate, sitting with me instead of avoiding everyone? We may not be friends, and I can't remember ever talking with you before all this, but I know your reputation. This isn't a part of your usual behaviour."

"I told you before. I'm bored, nothing interesting ever happens around here. Until I can figure you out, there's nothing better to do with my time."

Her eyebrow seemed to jerk in surprise. "And the blackmailing? How are my out-of-school activities of any interest?"

Aomine was finishing his sandwich, taking him a few seconds longer to reply. When he did, he replied, "That's because I want to see how easily I can crush you."

Peals of laughter fell from Yasuka's lips, mocking Aomine until his face contorted into the scowl that so suited him.

From across the room, a voice called out, "Hey, Yasuka!"

She turned, running her fingers through the choppy waves of her hair in order to preserve its order. Yuki, a short, black haired girl who liked to hang key rings from her belongings, beckoned to Yasuka. The two were not particularly close, which held true for almost everyone except Rika. But, as with everyone, she treated the other kindly.

Yasuka cast a glance at Aomine – who wasn't even paying attention to her – before standing and walking over.

"Is he bothering you?" Yuki asked, straight away and with a general curiosity.

"Aomine?"

"Yeah."

"…Ah, nothing much- I'm tutoring him, that's all." lied Yasuka.

Yuki nodded as if she understood. "I was just making sure. If you wanted any help getting rid of him…"

Smiling broadly, with a sweetness unwitnessed by Aomine, the short haired girl said, "That's so nice of you to offer, Yuki, but it really is fine. Is there, um, something else?"

"No, no. I was just…I haven't heard good things about Aomine, so if you're tutoring him…well, good luck." Yuki declared.

"Thanks!" Yasuka hesitated as she began to turn away, "I think I'll need it."

Yuki giggled at her playful tone, as if on cue, making it hard to determine how genuinely she laughed. On a mutual agreement, the two turned simultaneously away from each other. Yuki returned her group of friends, and Yasuka to her desk, where an unwanted person awaited her.

The chair scrapped across the linoleum as she sat. "So, if anyone asks why you're talking to me, tell them I'm tutoring you."

"Hm? Why would you be?" Aomine grunted.

"Don't pretend you don't know; we're in the same class, I've heard about your grades."

He shrugged, returning to apathy. "Whatever."

The two continued in silence for a little while longer. Aomine had finished his sandwich, and his eyes longingly began to trail towards her own untouched lunch. Yasuka watched on intently, especially considering as they soon lingered somewhere else unwanted; her chest.

She crossed her arms defensively. "What?"

"You look like a c-cup."

"So?"

"Well, they're not exactly big…"

"Shut up! They're perfectly normal."

Aomine scoffed at her, causing Yasuka to grow even more insulted. Yet he persisted, "I'm just saying; they're not that small either-" he titled his head mockingly, "-so how do you hide them? During the 'night'?"

Yasuka smiled widely. "Dress like a man, act like a man, and people won't go thinking you're _not_ a man."

Aomine raised his eyebrow, clearly expecting something else. Yasuka offered nothing more, and was neither particularly inclined to, given his irritation at her lack of bluntness.

His frown smoothed out as a new idea to tease her dawned. "Although they're still definitely not big enough…"

"I happen to be very popular in this school-"

"I can't imagine why."

"Are you actually expecting me to be catered specifically to your expectations?"

Aomine leant forward lazily. "Why not?" he replied.

"_Aho-mine._"

The effect was immediate. "_What did you just call me?"_

Victory was Yasuka's, for her to exploit. "Aho-mine." She repeated with a broad smile.

The blue haired student stood hastily, his hands gripping the edge of her desk. Though his angry stare pinned her down, she remained unfazed; the look was something typical in her life. She would not be one to bend under it.

"Don't-" Aomine began to say.

"Don't, exactly," another voice decided, "Aomine."

A heavy sigh left his lips. In turn, Yasuka first, they both looked towards the new arrival; a pink haired, slender-waisted and well-endowed girl stood above them. She had yet to take in Yasuka, as she was intent upon admonishing Aomine.

"Satsuki." He replied shortly.

"I was looking everywhere for you."

"And?"

"Where have you been?"

"None of your business."

The words perched on Yasuka's lips would remain no longer. "Are you two dating?" she blurted suddenly.

"No." Aomine immediately replied, and he sat once again.

"Just friends," added Satsuki, "And who are you?"

Putting on her best face, a honey-sweet smile, Yasuka answered in a bright, cheery voice, "Yasuka Nakamura. It's nice to meet you."

"I'm Satsuki Momoi." She greeted the other girl with just as much vigour.

Aomine interrupted the conversation to loudly offer a random, "Nakamura here was just agreeing to tutor me."

Yasuka sent him a quick warning look – clearly he had never had to keep many secrets before. In a split second, however, she was back to her previous personality, one of smiles and giggles, while definitely excluding rudeness and trash talking.

"It's no problem if I do," Yasuka assured the frowning Satsuki, "And this way our class average should improve."

At the subtle jibe, the black haired student also swung her legs out under the desk. Her heel slammed down against Aomine's outstretched legs in a blatant attempt to cause him pain. He recoiled immediately, and probably would've scowled if he hadn't already been doing so.

"Oh," was all Satsuki had to offer in the way of a reply, "Anyway, I need to talk to Aomine, if it's alright."

Yasuka's smile grew, though it hardly seemed possible, even wider. "Take all the time you need."

If Satsuki was willingly able to rid her of that pest, Yasuka would not be the one to stand in her way.

"It's such a bother to move." remarked Aomine, unappreciatively.

"Please, Aomine!"

"And after the effort Momoi went to find you!" Yasuka added just as imploringly.

"Shut up." He muttered.

Satsuki crossed her arms, sighing angrily. "Aomine," she enunciated, growing impatient, "Come with me, _now_."

Yasuka leant forward onto her elbows. Her eyes locked on to Aomine's. After a long, slow second of neither moving, Yasuka blinked first.

"Fine." Aomine reacted as if he had been presented with a challenge, standing abruptly and slamming his hands to her desk.

"Thanks!" Satsuki exclaimed, welcoming the assistance.

"No problem!" declared Yasuka enthusiastically, although for a far less selfless reason that one might presume.

For Aomine to leave, for life to return to its normal complications, would be a blessing. It was Yasuka's one and only hope, and it was coming true.

That was until Aomine said, "See ya round, Nakamura."

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**Feedback is always appreciated and thanks for reading. I know this story is budding but I hope you see potential in it. **

**On a little bit of a sidenote, for those of you who are confused, Aho-mine is a fan name for Aomine. Like Baka-gami (Kagami idiot), 'aho' mean stupid so the nickname is equivalent to 'stupid-Aomine').**

**Next chapter: Rika delves deeper in search for the root of the problem, the source of her fear, while Yasuka denies its existence entirely.**


	4. fingers gripped tight and led into fear

**Early update to celebrate the start of my school holidays (2 weeks of writing and ignoring my responsibilities more like). Enoy the update!**

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**_4 – fingers gripped tight and led into fear_**

"H-_How-_?"

"How did I get in?"

Yasuka, typically not one to be caught off guard, was both surprised and thoroughly stunned.

"Yeah…" she mumbled.

"Your mum." Rika, the surprise visitor, explained rather vaguely.

It shouldn't have been so shocking, really. Rika and Yasuka had been friends for years, since they were children learning to walk, and Yasuka knew that it wasn't Rika lying on her own bed, reading magazines, that made her stutter – it was the content of the magazines.

"Any reason why you've grown suddenly interested in fashion, Rika?"

Yasuka could hardly fathom it. Always, she had been the one to dress up, to look pretty and keep intensely in tune with her feminine side. Rika, despite the occasional floral hair decoration, was a tomboy through and through. True to her more irritable nature, Rika muttered an insult under her breath.

"Is it because of a boy?" Yasuka inquired. "Is it _the_ Boy?"

"Maybe I'm just trying to understand why you waste so much time trying to impress other people this way." Rika offered.

"After seventeen years?"

"I said _maybe_."

"So, it's that guy you like then?" decided Yasuka, needing no further talk to infer this. What was fundamental to understanding the difference between the two was that Yasuka always cared about how she looked, and Rika never did.

"_Maybe!_" reiterated Rika, "Is there a problem with that?"

"Whether you want to look good for yourself or for someone else, it's okay. So long as it's your choice, and it's what you're comfortable with-"

"That's why I would never wear some of this stuff. Besides, I'm just too tall…"

Yasuka dumped her bag in the corner of her bedroom. "Every girl can be beautiful if they try hard enough. _Really hard,_ in your case."

The swish of the magazine pages could be heard, quickly followed by a thud as it collided with Yasuka's head.

"Shut up." growled Rika.

"Don't come here if you don't want to talk to me then."

"Did you not hear what I just said?"

"You said 'shut up'."

"So _shut up_."

Yasuka grinned, not in the childishly innocent way she did as school, but broadly and with obvious delight at her friend's irritation.

A conversation persisted as Yasuka moved around her room, tidying the few things that had been left out of place in Rika's presence.

"Anyway, how's your situation with the Boy going?" she short haired girl asked.

"It's _not_."

"Why don't you just tell him how you feel, instead of tiptoeing around each other?"

Rika let out a strangled sigh. "You wouldn't understand." She decided.

Having made her way to her bed, Yasuka took a seat and turned her attention towards he friend. "Wouldn't I?" she retorted after a moment's hesitation.

"_Wouldn't you?_" Rika echoed, growing confused, "Do you like someone?"

"Ah, _no_."

"You do."

"I so do not."

"Who is it? From your school or mine?"

"Rika," Yasuka declared, "everyone at your school is either obnoxiously talented, or a complete idiot. Your boyfriend is both."

"He's not my boyfriend-!" Rika exclaimed, vehement for no particular reason; especially given how much she did like him and would very much like him to be what Yasuka called him.

"He is."

"-And he's called Atsushi."

"I'm definitely not going to be calling him one of your weird, couple names." Yasuka teased.

Had Rika not been so far away and so comfortable on the bed, she might have slapped the other girl. "It's his first name, and you would call him Murasakibara."

"Jeez, what a mouthful."

Her knee slammed into Yasuka's calf. Given how remarkably tall Rika was, it was unsurprising that she had accumulated most of the space on the double bed.

"Don't complain," snapped Rika, "Anyway, back to the point; are you having…what do you call it? Boy troubles?"

Yasuko scowled at the thoughts then provoked. "Remember almost two weeks ago?"

"Yeah."

"And we were out after dark? And I was dressed as a boy then, and you crashed into that idiot with the blue hair?"

"I remember."

"His name is Daiki Aomine."

Rika clapped her hands twice. "What?! _Really?_" she enthused, with an extreme amount of sarcasm and over exaggerated facial expressions.

"No, you really don't understand how terrible this." Yasuka denied. "Aomine goes to Tōō Academy with me, and he _knows_."

"That you cross-dress?"

She nodded. "He saw the scar on my hand, and obviously connected the dots and well…he hasn't told anyone yet, but so far I've had to buy him chocolate, lunch for three days, and he won't _leave me alone_."

"File a complaint." Rika offered mildly.

"You're a terrible confident, you know?" Yasuka informed her friend.

"I know."

Rika refrained from elaborating immediately. It gave Yasuka the chance to glance in the mirror, running her fingers through her hair to neaten it up. Short though it was already was, she was considering a haircut to trim away all the split ends.

"What's so bad about someone knowing anyway?" Rika continued eventually, staring at the ceiling, "So what you dress as a boy and run around with your thug group?"

Yasuka corrected her out of habit. "Friends."

"Underlings."

"_Friends_."

"And also members of your gang."

A long, weighted sigh escaped Yasuka. "Fine, we're a gang; but don't talk about it so loudly. I can't have my mum or sister hearing."

"I thought your sister knew about it already."

"Nah. Only that all those late night outs aren't exactly spent the way I say they are."

"And here I was thinking you were such a goody-two-shoes…" Rika lamented sardonically.

Yasuka merely pulled her legs closer to her, using her feet to hold up her uniform skirt. "Come on Rika, you know that's just an act for school."

"Well, thank god for that. Imagine if people actually _liked _you for _you_."

"If you're going to be a bitch about it, you can leave." concluded Yasuka irritably. Every time this topic was brought up, squabbling was assured.

Rika lifted her hands up until they cushioned her head. Today, she had forgone her floral hair decorations, leaving shoulder-length black hair to hang straight and unbound. "I just think," she muttered, "That you're not happy, and it's because you're so caught up in these lies."

"These lies are there for a reason."

"Hm?"

"A gang lifestyle isn't exactly suited for everyone. It's dangerous, and I'm _not_," Yasuka emphasised this with a vague hand gesture, "going to involve my family. I'd rather have everyone think I'm a boy, and have them target a fake me, then ever put my mum or Chihiro in any kind of danger."

"Oh, right." Rika remarked, remembering even as Yasuka explained it.

Yasuka, from her sitting position on the bed, could watch the change of emotions openly displayed upon her friend's face. Understanding morphed to curiosity.

"What is it?" inquired Yasuka.

"Nothing." Rika lied quickly.

Taking this to mean it was anything but, the other persisted. "_What_?"

"It's not true, so it doesn't matter."

"Clearly it does."

"I said it was _nothing_. In what world does 'nothing' translate to 'it matters'?"

Yasuka scowled without realising it. Around Rika, it was so blissfully easy to forget about reputation or the pressures of society; friends like that were rare and best kept close. Only Yasuka wasn't mindful of this, and so didn't hesitate to recorrect her friend with a quick kick to the leg.

"_Ow_!"

"How dare you come into _my_ house-"

"What the hell-?!"

"_My _room-"

It was blatantly clear that Yasuka was being dramatic for the sake of drama.

"Will you _shut up_?" Rika moaned.

"How rude! Why am I even friends with you?"

Rika gifted Yasuka with a violent nudge with her own foot. "Fine!" the taller girl relented. "Jeez, it wasn't even that big of a deal…"

"You're the one who made it one." Yasuka noted.

"That was you."

The short haired girl smiled brightly, abruptly changing the subject. "So, what were you thinking?"

Rika probably would've shrugged if she hadn't been lying down. "Just that maybe you dress as a boy around your gang because you think they might respect you more."

"I-"

"Which is stupid, of course." Rika quickly added. She was right, as Yasuka well knew she was living proof of a women's capability. Rika even had her very own fan club, due to the commonness of her fist fights.

Yasuka nodded, twirling a curl of her hair around her finger. "I know." She said.

_But you're right,_ she thought.

* * *

**And so I suppose I should mention the Murasakibara/OC story that interacts with this. Really, it's more of a backstory and the details of it won't be mentioned.**

**Next chapter: Yasuka finds herself in a strangely normal situation with a very particular person who cannot keep his mouth shut.**


	5. here, most indefinably, is not at all

**Yeah, first off: apologies for the day-late update (was working all of Saturday). Please enjoy this chapter, silly as it is.**

* * *

**_5 – here, most indefinably, is not at all promising_**

If Satsuki Momoi were anything at all, it would be persistent.

"_Satsuki!_"

She had to be, if she were willing to deal with Aomine and Yasuka both.

"Satsuki, _please_ tell me where we're going." whined Yasuka, none to happily.

"The gym." She replied cheerfully.

"Okay," by this point, her patience was beginning to wear thin, "Why?"

At last, Satsuki stopped. The two of them were alone in the middle of a hallway; one that was surprisingly empty given it was currently their lunch hour at Tōō Academy. Yasuka wasn't terribly interested in why, and was rather more focused upon the bone-crushing grip Satsuki had secured around her wrist. Before she had even had the chance to eat, the pink haired girl and tore into the classroom and dragged Yasuka from her seat.

"You're going to eat lunch with us today." declared Satsuki at long last, offering a curt explanation for her actions.

"_Us_?"

"Aomine, and myself."

"Not that I don't want to, but is there some reason I _have_ to?" Yasuka wondered.

Satsuki turned around and began to march forward. The odd bulge inside Yasuka's school shirt began to slip, prompting her to readjust the glad-wrapped bun that was her lunch.

"Aomine seems to like you, and so do I." Satsuki supplied.

"And?"

"And you're a good influence on him."

"What? How?"

"You make dealing with him easier."

Yasuka stared across at her bubbly acquaintance. "Seriously? That's it?" She was dumbfounded.

"Yep." The other asserted.

"Well," Yasuka muttered to herself, "There's a surprise."

Today, Yasuka's short hair seemed even shorter than usual, as one side was pinned away from the face. Though it was easy to feign confidence and normalcy – eyes set, shoulder's straight – no amount of makeup could hide the bruise creeping across the skin of her jaw. It was currently a purple-gray colour, blotched with a sickly yellow and the red flush of blood. To those who knew the truth, of which there were few, it was easy to guess how she had acquired the bruise.

She'd forgotten to take her baseball bat with her last night.

"Satsuki?" the question had been pending for a while.

"What?" she replied.

"Why are we going to the gym to eat lunch?"

She laughed. "That's where Aomine is today."

"But it's locked to students during lunch…"

"Not to all of them."

Doubt to this claim came naturally. Were people really so intimidated by Daiki Aomine?

The answer presented itself as the two finally reached their destination – the gym – and Yasuka witnessed the truth. _Yes_, people were truly that intimidated by Aomine.

Although, for the life of her, she couldn't understand _why_. When she looked at him now, she saw a second-year high school student, sprawled across the stage their gym boasted, mouthing the words to whatever song played through his phone. There appeared to be nothing extraordinary about him; unless you had seen him play before.

The two girls didn't announce themselves, instead watching the spectacle with shared humorous confusion. Yasuka recovered her thoughts first, and promptly decided to act before he noticed them. She entered from the door at the side, and approached Aomine slowly. Satsuki followed behind, with a little less tact and a lot more noise.

Once level with him, Yasuka on the gym floor and Aomine lying across the stage, she smiled. "Hey, Aomine."

His eyes shot open, flickering to her in a blue blur. She knew he was surprised only because of his belated reply.

"…What are you doing here?"

"I brought her!" piped Satsuki.

"What for?"

Rather than give anyone the chance to reply, Yasuka avoided the answer entirely by creating a distraction. She snatched up Aomine's phone before he could react, turning the screen on, only to discover just what music it was that he had been singing along to.

"Never figured you'd be the type for girl bands." She remarked.

He stole his phone back in one easy swipe.

"Never thought you'd be into stereotypes." He retorted.

"I thought you only liked them for their looks." Satsuki added, obviously implying a very specific part of their appearance. It seemed that Aomine had a habit of evaluating women based on their cup size – something Yasuka thought needed to change.

"Guess not." muttered Yasuka.

Satsuki began to the climb the steps up to the stage, pausing to indicate that Yasuka should follow. Yasuka gave a simultaneous nod and shrug, before trailing after the pink haired girl. Despite how easy Satsuki was to talk to, this was but there second meeting, and so Yasuka was hesitant to call them friends. When regarding Aomine, she was even more hesitant.

If anything, they existed merely because they could – never because of each other.

"So, is this really how you spend your lunchtime?" Yasuka inquired as she took a seat next to Satsuki, and far away from Aomine.

He merely stared at her.

Satsuki intervened to say, "On good days."

A smile slipped onto the lips of the short haired girl. "So the rumours that Daiki Aomine is a lazy, arrogant, self-absorbed prick are true then."

"Who says that?" Satsuki exclaimed, ignoring the growl that came from Aomine himself.

"Everyone," Yasuka shrugged lightly, "But considering your social circle consists mostly of the basketball team and boys who can't keep it in their pants, I'm not surprised you haven't heard about his reputation."

"And yet you're agreeing to tutor him?" Satsuki countered doubtfully.

"Huh?"

The two girls turned to stare at Aomine, who, in turn, looked on with cluelessness. It was only at the flat stare from Yasuka that he was prompted to recall that little lie.

"Oh, right." He recovered himself lamely. "Tutoring…"

In the thin, settling silence, Yasuka unwrapped her lunch and began to eat. Satsuki had a bento that she too began to consume, whilst Aomine watched on empty-handed. Never one to miss teasing him, Yasuka kept careful eye contact – which was strange, given how intensely intimidating it was to do that – before taking a slow bite of her lunch.

She was halfway through a bite when her phone began to vibrate from within her pocket.

"You should get that." Aomine told her.

Yasuka shot him a cautioning glare, setting her food down between her legs where she hoped it would be safe from Aomine; she never really could tell his limits.

"I will." Yasuka affirmed.

She whipped her phone from her skirt pocket, unlocking the screen so that it opened directly to her inbox. It was from Yuki, wondering where she was. Quite obviously, that lunchtime had not gone as planned, and Yasuka had not had the time to tell them, Yuki and her other friend Ichiro, that she'd be absent from her usual lunchtime social group.

Her reply simply read; _sorry, I got caught up with something. Enjoy eating without me._

Even as she sent the text, her phone alerted her to two more incoming messages.

"So you really are popular." Satsuki remarked absently.

"I guess," Yasuka feigned modesty, "I just like talking to people, and they seem to like me."

Aomine scoffed at her words. "They don't know who _you_ are, considering-" He stopped short, noticing Yasuka's wide-eyed stare in his direction, "-What?"

His voice, arrogant and rough as it was, jerked her back to reality. "Nothing." Yasuka assured, "You just reminded me of someone."

Aomine grunted unappreciatively, something Yasuka had never seen done before.

"Who?" inquired Satsuki, more for the sake of conversation than any true curiosity.

"I have this friend who goes to Yōsen High, Rika-"

"Oh, you mean the annoying bitch that wouldn't stop shit-talking." interrupted Aomine callously.

Anger came quick and hot, like wind on a summer night. There was nothing, not a single bone in Yasuka's body, that told her she had to stay – and so she didn't.

"Don't you ever," Yasuka had already made it halfway down the stairs, "think that you can badmouth my friends in front of me, Aho-mine."

"Quit calling me that!"

She turned back slowly, green eyes narrowed. Her anger weighed against her, yet Yasuka bit her tongue before she said something she would only regret in the future. Even now, she couldn't forget the secret Aomine dangled over her head.

From the corner of her eye she spotted Satsuki sitting by in shock. Clearly, the attitude change was unexpected, particularly when she had only ever seen the cheerful display Yasuka adopted for the general masses.

She meant to make her exit then, from the side-door of the gym. Only it opened before she could even reach the handle.

"Nakamura?"

"Imayoshi?"

From opposite sides of the open doorway, they stared at each other. It was Yasuka who recovered herself first, plastering a smile to her lips.

"Strange, seeing you here." Soichi Imayoshi remarked, smiling in that uncanny way of his.

"And you," she replied conversationally, "I heard you were sick and bedridden. Also, not in school anymore."

He gestured to his face, nose red and eyes carrying bags. "I was and I am. I just had to stop in here to meet someone."

"You two know each other?" piqued Satsuki.

Tōō Academy's former basketball captain walked over to Yasuka so that he could throw his arm around her shoulders.

"You could say that." He remarked slyly.

Yasuka shook her head and pushed his arm away. "We're neighbours." She explained coolly, finding her temper was calming down.

"Tch," Aomine rudely interrupted them, "I thought you were leaving, Nakamura."

"I _am_, Aomine."

Imayoshi seemed to brighten at this, either ignoring or ignorant to the underlying tension. "That's helpful. I wanted to talk to you, Nakamura."

"About what? You didn't come all the way to school just to see poor, little me?"

"No, actually."

Yasuka crossed her arms, pouting in effort to convey her irritation. "Shame. I could've made it worth the effort."

"I'm only interested if it's not you who's offering."

She blinked quickly, playing a game of connect-the-dots in her mind. "_That's_ not what you wanted to talk to me about, is it?" she exclaimed suddenly.

Imayoshi simply continued to smile at her. Taking this as affirmation in a different form, and becoming suddenly overwhelmed by the notion, Yasuka swayed and clutched Imayoshi's arm for support. He hardly reacted, betraying how comfortable he truly was with her.

"My sister…" she mumbled.

"You're sister," Imayoshi agreed, "is really cute."

"She's a first year! Sixteen! I thought you were planning on moving to go to university, you damn paedophile."

"I didn't come here for permission, Nakamura. I wanted to know how to get her to agree to go out with me." insisted the bespectacled student.

Yasuka stood up straight, composing herself hurriedly. "No, I forbid it. She's too cute, and you're too disgusting." She decided.

"You're both disgusting," Aomine interjected listlessly, "Shut up and go away."

Yasuka was ever quick to retort. "_Gladly_."

Imayoshi took a step backwards, as eager as he had ever not been to involve himself with Aomine. If Yasuka wanted to feud with the legendary ace, then she could. However, Imayoshi was determined to stay out of the collateral damage.

In a whirl of colour, Yasuka turned to Satsuki and nodded politely. "Thanks for including me." She bade her kindly.

"We should do it again." Satsuki added, seemingly serious.

As Imayoshi and Yasuka turned to leave, readily carrying out their business elsewhere, Aomine noticed the leftover lunch of Yasuka's on the floor beside him.

"Are you going to eat this?" he called out.

His answer was the door slamming shut behind her.

* * *

**Is that another pairing with an OC that will probably never be explored in depth? Yes, of course. I can't help myself - though, if you're wondering who Yasuka's sister is, she's merely an OC that features in a later chapter.**

**Thanks for reading, reviewing, and to all the new favourites/followers, a massive thanks!**

**Next chapter: Yasuka and Aomine seem determined to make a mess of themselves. Perhaps it would have been better to nip this bud before it took deeper roots.**


	6. he will become a piece of her mess

**Early(ish) update because I'm busy all weekend long~**

* * *

**_6 – he will become a piece of her mess_**

Yasuka was a firm believer that days were best spent with company and the night, alone. There came only one problem with that philosophy, a question that begged to be asked. What about what came between day and night?

Perhaps Yasuka already knew the answer; she was, after all, spending that particular evening with Aomine.

"Jeez, just how much further is it?"

She really should invest in finding different company.

"Not much," Yasuka replied coolly, "Not that you should really be complaining, Aomine. You're the one that decided to walk me home from school."

Ambling along beside her, the blue haired man didn't bother to restrain his contempt. "Don't think so highly of yourself," he scoffed, "You were the best excuse to get out practise."

Yasuka rolled her eyes. "And so you actually had to walk me home? Ever heard of _lying_?"

"You certainly have."

"Shut it."

"Or what?"

"Or maybe I'll beat your ass to the ground." Yasuka asserted, equally balanced in both confidence and nonchalance.

Had she known him better, Yasuka would have been able to expect his ensuing statement. "That only one who can beat me," he stated firmly, "is me."

"Is that what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night?" she jibed.

"I-!" Aomine's insult died on his lips. It seemed words escaped him in that moment, or that Yasuka's insult was not one who could refute. A simple glare would have to suffice.

The smug smirk she wore unsettled him further. He hated that look – one of superiority and amusement – especially when he saw it on anyone other than himself.

"Stop it." He ordered suddenly.

"Stop what?" she inquired innocently, as if she had never been aware of how irritating she was.

"That noise."

Yasuka's act persisted. "What noise? Oh, you mean this?" She promptly began a demonstration, resuming her musical humming.

"_That_." Aomine confirmed, muscle tensing in his jaw.

She smiled in the way that was both pleasant and devious; never had those two things been more entwined in a single person. "Okay." She agreed easily.

The silence, though sweet, was brief. It took not even ten seconds before Yasuka had begun the song again. This time, she sang it. It was agonizingly clear that she was doing it to tease him – the song was the exact one Aomine had been listening to in the gym a few days ago.

"_Nakamura!_"

Called to a halt by her name, the dark haired girl stopped short and faced Aomine. "You look like you're about to burst a vein, Aomine." She remarked coolly.

His temper broke. Like mercury, spilling its poison in the same way Aomine's anger did. Before he knew it, his hand framed Yasuka's face. Her hair was caught in his fingers, her skin turning white as he applied pressure to her cheeks. There would be no escaping Aomine's vice like grip unless it was with violence.

Yasuka's last resort was just that. For just as quick as Aomine was to lash out in anger, she reacted in turn. The force with which she slapped his hand away left her own stinging.

"Don't forget," Aomine threatened darkly, "I know your secret."

"And I would rather let the whole school know it than let you touch me again." Yasuka hissed.

Had she been wearing heels, she might surely have toppled over with the force of her spin. Fortunately, her school shoes definitely made for a quicker getaway. She had no need or obligation to stay somewhere and with someone that made her uncomfortable – Yasuka had learned that the hard way, but the lesson was taught all the same.

"You want _out_?" Aomine called after her.

"That's why I'm walking away!"

Aomine was tempted to take a step towards her, only pride restrained him. "I'll leave you alone if you tell me why!"

Yasuka was almost mid-step when she halted. "What?"

It was Aomine's turn to grin smugly. He liked this, power over people.

"I only ever hang around you for one reason, you know," he pointed out, "Curiosity, remember."

"So you want to know why I dress like a boy?" she wondered, turning around.

Aomine stared at her, frowning more than a little. She was used to this expression, and far more comfortable with a disgruntled Aomine than anything else. Yasuka's exploits served only to intentionally ensure his aggravation.

"Fine." She decided after short consideration. "I'll tell you."

"Better be worth my time." muttered Aomine, who began walking towards her.

She crossed her arms, wishing she had brought her jumper. It was too much to expect Aomine to offer his own. Aomine took the lead, with Yasuka falling in step behind.

"Well?" he urged.

"Right," Yasuka nodded to herself, "There isn't much to tell. I started in the holidays before high school started."

"Started cross-dressing?"

"Yes, and no."

"Are you so stupid you still can't even answer clearly?" growled Aomine.

Yasuka kept her weariness to herself. "I was explaining it, idiot, so shut up and listen." She declared. "A little over a year ago, I was dating this guy, which wasn't too smart because he was a complete ass, so I dumped him. He didn't like that, and when he started to get aggressive, a group of guys came and intervened."

With no objection or hindrance, Yasuka continued her story without reserve. Though she stripped it to the bare necessities, already she had admitted more than she cared. She hardly liked enough for Aomine to want him to know even this much about her.

"They were part of this gang, and the leader, Kaname, invited me to spend time with him and I became friends with them." She elucidated.

"Is this going to take all night?" whined Aomine, rudely interrupting.

Yasuka's mind wandered to her baseball bat; she really wished she had it with her.

"Like you have somewhere to be." She retorted.

"I could."

"Well then turn around and go back to your basketball practise."

Once again caught in her web, Aomine decided to keep his mouth shut. Pleased with herself, Yasuka allowed the silence to continue. She liked it best when Aomine was quiet. Then, she only had to bother reading his expressions to understand him – his words only ever confused her.

At length, she spoke again, only to say, "Do you have any money?"

He did, but that wasn't for her to know. "Weren't you telling me your life story?" he retorted.

"How much?" insisted Yasuka, certain now that he did.

When Aomine caught sight of a rogue vending machine, he suddenly understood her inquiry. Not that knowing did anything to lessen his irritation. "None of your business." He replied gruffly.

"Please, Aomine." begged Yasuka. She clasped her hands together, hunching her shoulders to emphasise the low buttoning of her school shirt.

Aomine shamelessly fell for the tactic. "And yet you're still not a d-cup."

The insult was ignored, mostly because it had been expected. Yasuka's only response was to hold out her hand, which shortly thereafter came to hold the change in Aomine's pocket.

"This is nice." She declared, foregoing thanking him.

"Whatever."

Aomine's feet headed on, distantly picking up the sound of Yasuka skipping. He had to wonder how much of this was an act, foiling the minds of her peers with a cute personality – never mind that he had just called her cute. Mostly likely Yasuka was only truly that way when she felt like it; such as now, when she had had her own way.

It took a moment, but after she had bought her drink from the machine, she quickly caught up with him. Aomine had been walking slowly purely for the sake of it, definitely not in consideration of her. As of yet, nothing better to do with this afternoon had yet to come to mind.

"Want a drink?" Yasuka inquired cheerfully, offering the bottle of coke to him.

"I thought you were mad it me?"

Her smile was just as everything else was about her; persistent. "I am."

Well, that explained why she was acting so friendly.

Nearby, a tree rustled as a bird emerged from the foliage. "Keep going with you explanation." Aomine commanded.

"Can't even remember where I was at."

"You were part of a gang." Aomine offered apathetically.

Yasuka beamed to herself. "So you _were_ paying attention."

"Curiosity." He reminded her defensively.

"Whatever you say," She dismissed, "But it all comes down to this; my cross-dressing is primarily because I was and am still involved with that gang."

"Huh? How does that have anything to with it?"

"In order to be treated as a boy, Kaname told me to dress like one. I didn't want a repeat of some of my past experiences, so I continued with the ruse – honestly, it's just been that long I hardly notice it anymore. I'm a girl who sometimes dresses like a boy."

"That hardly makes any sense. To hide it, I mean." Aomine frowned, intensely uncomprehending.

Yasuka ran her finger across the grooves in her drink's lid. Her nail dipping in and out of each rise was repetitive, and for the same reason, comforting. "I'd like to keep it a secret because of assholes; people like you."

"When the hell have I ever criticized your lifestyle?" Aomined growled, just barely biting back the insults lingering in his mind. If he really wanted to hurt her, he could wait.

Yasuka opened her mouth, and kept it that way. She scoured her mind for the phrase, yet the words could not be found free of lies. "I, uh…" she mumbled, before she finally ceased trying. Aomine was right.

He wore arrogance like a cloak. "Idiot."

"And yet Momoi told me _you_ failed your last test."

"Passed the redemption, though."

"I suppose a congratulations is in order?" Yasuka replied sarcastically.

"Just tell me it's not much farther to your house."

"Actually," she announced, gesticulating to the street up ahead, "It's that house up there. With the white fence."

"Good, then I can leave?"

"And we finally get what we both want." concluded Yasuka.

They had stopped three houses away from hers. The scent of fresh air and all that came with the outside pressed against her senses. It seemed odd to associate that with Aomine, who was far too unusual for the ordinary.

"So, are you satisfied?" she wondered.

There was a truth Aomine would never divulge. He would speak, and answer, but Yasuka could never be certain.

He said what he always thought he would have. "I thought you would be more interesting."

* * *

**The end? No definitely not. There's still so much more to come (most of my favourite chapters a coming up!). I tend to think of these previous chapters as one massive prologue to get you started.**

**I hope the 'next chapter' things at the end of my a/n's are a good idea. **

**Thanks for reading!**

**Next chapter: the web seems to be drawing tighter around them, no matter what they want. Fate seems destined to pair Aomine and Yasuka together - though Satsuki Momoi is always willing to lend a helping hand.**


	7. it is weaving the inescapable

**Oops, it's Sunday now isn't it?**

* * *

**_7 – it is weaving the inescapable_**

In her mind, she imagined they were gone. And if only they were; she hated to open her eyes and see her vision was a lie. But, quite honestly, Yasuka had had enough.

She'd stayed up far too late the previous night, forgetting about her obligations of the following Saturday. Tired though she was, her work was inescapable, and so it came to be that Yasuka stood behind the counter of a café. Her eyes trailed the customers, anticipating who would next place an order and who was waiting for their food. It was all cooked by Yasuka's mother, and so she often insisted upon the quality of everything.

In the distance, the bell above the door chimed. Though it seemed to reach Yasuka's ears from a great distance, it was what brought reality crashing back with a peculiar – and regretfully, familiar – sight.

Of all the people to walk in, it had to be those two; Michio and Akihiko.

Out of habit and anticipation, she bit her lip. The moment Michio caught her eye, smiling his crooked smile, Yasuka realised their presence was quite the intended accident.

"Hey!" he cheered, bounding over to the counter to greet her.

Calmer, but no less cheerful, Akihiko followed at his own pace. "Yasuka." He greeted softly.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded immediately.

"Getting lunch." Michio stated simply, as that was just what he was. Bleached-blonde hair, a wonky nose and cheeks spotted with acne scars made it all seem obvious. Then standing Michio next to the tall, heavily-pierced and narrow-eyed Akihiko, it became irrefutable. Tattooing the word 'thug' onto each of their foreheads would have been less obvious.

"And you couldn't eat somewhere else?" Yasuka sighed.

"Oh, come on, boss! We haven't seen you in ages!" whined Michio.

Yasuka felt her eyebrow jerk in irritation. "Fine," she growled, "But I'm not your 'boss' at the moment. Just order, you idiots."

"Don't worry so much, your mum won't find out." Michio assured, completely ignoring her previous words.

"Only if you be quiet," Akihiko interjected, "Please, I'm trying to think."

Realising the public atmosphere, Yasuka adopted a pleasant smile and recited her pre-prepared script. "The menu is based entirely off my mum's recipes, so each meal is unique to our café. The pizza is a personal favourite of mine."

"A whole pizza still wouldn't even be enough to feed me." Michio declared.

"Then order two." Yasuka argued, still smiling.

"Hmm…" He stroked his chin thoughtfully.

Yasuka turned her attention to Akihiko, whose eyes roamed the menu installed on the wall behind her. As always, he wore a scarf around his neck, despite the weather being pleasant enough for shorts. His hair, lacklustre brown and dead straight, fell just short of his jawline.

"May I get a large, chocolate shake," Akihiko began, "And a ham, cheese and tomato sandwich?"

"Sure thing." Yasuka assured, bringing the items up on the register, "Would you like the sandwich toasted?"

Akihiko shook his head after short deliberation.

"I'm paying for Akihiko." Michio added, before she could open her mouth to ask.

"Would you like to order then, instead of bouncing around everywhere?" Yasuka quipped.

Michio flashed her an apologetic grin. "Sorry, I'm just happy to see you. You look real cute as a girl, ya know – I'd date you if you weren't so scary."

Yasuka blinked wildly. "Scary?" she echoed dimly.

"_Scary_." Akihiko confirmed.

She laughed shortly, surprised. "What about Rika?"

At the mention of the tall, temperamental girl, Michio paled. Akihiko recovered the conversation for him.

"Just because she's scarier in a fight doesn't diminish your own scariness." He argued passively.

"Agreed." Michio added, with a theatrical shudder.

Yasuka merely rolled her eyes at his terror-stricken expression. "Just order, dumbass."

"Right," Michio nodded decisively, "A tropicano pizza. That's all."

As Yasuka completed the order and read out the total amount for Michio, Akihiko left the counter in search of a seat. With a familiar sense of amusement, she noted a group of girls watching her tall friend avidly. They had good reason to; Akihiko was quite attractive, and single. The only problem that came from his female attention was simply down to the fact that the attraction wasn't mutual.

"Here you go." announced Michio, forking over the amount owed.

Yasuka took the money happily, only to find her body stilled suddenly. "Are you trying to pay me with your blood money?" she wondered, staring at the corner of the note. When she said blood money, she meant it most literally – the corner was splattered in it.

Michio remained unfazed. "Chill out, Yasu. I just had a blood nose."

"And you used money to wipe it up with?"

"…well-"

"_Idiot_."

From across the room, Akihiko called out, "Michio, come take a seat."

Flashing her one last smile, the man finally turned away and headed over towards their mutual friend. Yasuka had to wonder about the last time she'd been out with friends in the same manner as they were.

When she thought of going out with company, what she meant was not people such as those who were really acquaintances, but people Yasuka actually _liked_. The problems with that, however, were many; Rika didn't like shopping with her – which was Yasuka's fault for trying to force her into dresses and heels – and eating out ended up costing them a fortune with their respective appetites. Yasuka's complex regarding anything to do with her past relationship, specifically circuses and carnivals, also restricted her options for venues.

At a guess, her last casual outing had been with Kaname, before he had moved away nearly six months ago. Regretfully, the evening had been a teary one.

Drifting in and out of thought, Yasuka was barely catching the phrases being thrown around the café, much less taking in her surroundings. She was vaguely realising that Akihiko and Michio were arguing over some sort of debt, when a voice like ice cut through the static.

"Why are you in such a hurry, Satsuki?"

"I'm hungry, Dai-chan! This looks like a nice place to eat, don't you think?"

Yasuka's first reaction was to swear. Her second was to smile.

She had missed the bell-chime that preceded the entrance of Daiki Aomine and Satsuko Momoi. She stood at the forefront, dressed in shorts and a yellow jumper, while the sulking giant behind her was hunched over in jeans and a tank top.

Their eyes met as if it were premeditated.

Yasuka recalled the fateful day she had told Satsuki about her place of work.

"Yasuka!" Satsuki cried, as if surprised.

"Fancy seeing you here." She replied bitingly.

Aomine's frown turned from Yasuka to the pink haired girl at his side. "Let's go somewhere else." He all but demanded.

"Here is fine." Satsuki reaffirmed.

If Yasuka could have turned them away, she would have. She didn't like to be reminded of things, particularly if they were something she had grown to like.

Aomine reminded her of that.

The situation only served to show how pathetic Yasuka could be; he had made it blatantly clear she didn't interest him. Still, there was persistent gap in her life where he had forced his way in. There had been a curiosity, or at least an unorthodox dynamic, that meant something to her, and she continued to hold to that despite knowing it was a one-sided feeling. The night that piece fell away was still fresh in her mind.

Two weeks ago, Aomine had told her that he had expected her to be more interesting, and immediately after, she had punched him.

A falling-out, of sorts, was to be expected. Missing him was not.

"What can I get you today?" The words came automatically. Yasuka wasn't paid to stand idly by.

"Ah, can I have a piece of that chocolate cake," Satsuki declared, "And Daiki…?"

He scowled, looking over at the distant wall. "Vanilla."

"Sorry?"

"Vanilla." Aomine reiterated.

"That's both frustratingly vague and childish, Aomine." Yasuka pointed out coolly.

"You know what I mean." He muttered.

Amazingly enough, she did. Yasuka smiled pleasantly. "One slice of cake, and a large vanilla shake." She repeated the order, before then listing the price.

"Thanks." Satsuki cheered as she paid for the two of them.

There was a familiar methodicalness to the way Yasuka opened the till and counted out the change. "You're always welcome, Satsuki." She replied with purposeful exclusion.

Tired of the encounter and all else that it brought with it, Yasuka turned away from them. From their retreating footsteps, it sounded like they were doing the same. In her hand she held the slips of paper containing the orders spat out by a machine. With these, she approached the window in the wall, leaning her head inside.

"Mum!" she called into the café kitchen.

A woman dressed in white, middle-aged and sporting a grey-streaked bun, spun around. "This's a workplace, Yasuka." Sakura Nakamura berated.

"Sorry," sighed her daughter, "Boss Mum!"

Sakura rolled her eyes – every bit the same, sharp green as Yasuka's – and approached the window from the other side. She took one quick glance at the orders, before letting Yasuka drop them onto the kitchen counter below.

"You can get the cake." Sakura reminded her.

"Doing that now." assured Yasuka.

A short lie, abolished when it became the truth. With a small plate handed over by her mother, Yasuka turned towards the counter and made her way over to the cake cabinet. The tongs hanging to her left were what Yasuka used to slide out the slice. Only when satisfied with the placement of the chocolate cake did she close the cabinet.

With the least-enthusiastic attitude she was able to conceive, Yasuka took the cake over to Satsuki and Aomine's table. Once again, Aomine wasn't looking at her – perhaps he hated reminders as well.

"Thanks." Satsuki declared. Despite only knowing each other for little over a month, it had never been difficult to befriend the bubbly girl. Aomine's influence even led to Satsuki knowing and accepting Yasuka's more abrasive, true nature.

"It _is_ my job, Satsuki." They were even able to call each other by first name now.

"And you should get back to it." interjected Aomine rudely.

"You should mind your business," Yasuka beamed down at him for the sake of appearances, "And I thought you weren't talking to me?"

He grunted, though the meaning of it lost on Yasuka.

Irritated by elusiveness in someone who argued the benefits of bluntness, she couldn't resist teasing him. "Or has your pride healed?" she asked, before poking a finger at lingering bruise on Aomine's jaw, "Just like this hasn't."

He batted her hand away lazily. "I still owe you for that punch, but why would we need to talk?"

"You mean, what reason do we have?"

Satsuki leaned forward conspiringly. "Because you're friends." She announced lowly.

Yasuka felt Aomine jump at the suggestion, even as she felt her body jerk around to face Satsuki. There was something indignant about the idea to them both – _friends_? Aomine seemed to repel them – and bitter was the taste left in her mouth.

Yasuka then turned back around to Aomine. "Don't act so disgusted by the idea of being my friend." She ordered indignantly.

He adopted a familiar expression of irritability, though his eyes passed beyond Yasuka. She was confused as to why, until the weight of an arm settled over her back.

"You aren't bothering this cute, little waitress, are you?" Michio wondered, emanating a sinister aura.

"Michio, get off me." grumbled Yasuka.

He sighed heavily but conceded regardless. "Yes, sir."

Aomine was scrutinising the older man with blatant disregard for subtly. His lip began to curl in distaste. When he caught Yasuka staring, the default scowl snapped back into place.

With a finger to her lip, Satsuki asked, "Who are you?"

"Me?" Michio echoed, eyes wide before he dropped into a sweeping bow, proclaiming, "I'm Michio, ready to serve you, lovely lady."

Yasuka let her hand bunch into a fist and fall on top of his head. "Like anyone should have to put up with your bullshit."

"I have a boyfriend, anyway," Satsuki informed, "So you're services aren't needed."

Michio immediately stood up straight, turning towards Yasuka in a flurry of limbs and rejection. His lips were pushed into a pout, expression grim, distraught, and exaggerated for comedic effect. At the low whine that filled the air, Yasuka could no longer contain her laughter.

"Pathetic." She managed to say through the giggling.

Aomine interrupted the scene with a low, clearing of his throat. "Stop making that face," he ordered Yasuka, "…it's disgusting."

"Says you, _Aho-mine_." She retorted. Not since their fight had she called him that name.

It was all part of a process. _'Healing',_ as Yasuka figured her mum would say. She had other words for it, synonymous ones, yet also not as kind and far cruder. Not that it particularly mattered now.

Yasuka was smiling, and however imperceptibly it may be, so was he.

* * *

**It feels like ages since I last updated. This chapter is sort of like the start of something new. (now i feel like watch hsm)**

**Thanks for following/reading/glancing. Please leave a review and tell me what you think!**

**Next chapter: the wounded pride of theirs is no longer raw. An alignment seems possible, and though Yasuka never expected it, true friendship is not so daunting as she expected - though Aomine is determined to be bothersome.**


	8. saved for the bothersome

**I should be doing homework but look where I am? Enjoy!**

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**_8 – saved for the bothersome_**

Satsuki opened with the line, "Aomine's hiding from me, and I need your help."

"On both accounts, _why_?" Yasuka's reply betrayed both irritation and amusement.

The conversation was being held in Yasuka's homeroom, where she sat and Satsuki stood. Ideally, the sun would have been shining in from the windows, though fate seemed determined to ruin good moods. The rain was pouring down, heavy sheets of thundering water to assault all exterior surfaces. Yasuka's single, good thought about the weather as that at least Rika would enjoy it.

"Well, first off, Dai-chan refuses to participate in team activities, and secondly, I need your help because he listens to you." Satsuki explained, sinking lower and lower as her dejection piled up.

"Since when has Aomine ever listened to me?"

"Did he ever criticize the size of your chest?"

"Yeah. Because he's a pig."

"Did you ever tell him not to?"

Yasuka answered just as easily. "Of course, I'm not going to let him get away with it."

Satsuki nodded as if this proved her point. The blank stare that was barely even a response prompted her to further explain, "And has he said anything about it since?"

A frown dawned. "…No?"

"My point." declared Satsuki, beaming at herself. Now that she had found someone Aomine would listen, and obey, she had a weapon of unimaginable power. The changes needed were just within sight.

Yasuka, who had been enjoying the thrilling tale of her latest school-assigned book, sighed and gave up on the possibility of enjoying her lunch. "Do I get anything out of this?" she wondered.

"Nope." Satsuki replied, confirming her suspicions. "Please still help me!"

"…Fine."

Surprise lit up on Satsuki's face. It annoyed Yasuka to think she had never been considered a selfless person – never mind that she really _wasn't_. She refrained from commenting, as Satsuki may have been thinking something entirely different, and the expression lasted only a moment longer. A smile was soon replacing the frown.

"I owe you." Satsuki thanked, tucking one side of her hair back behind her ear.

Yasuka simply nodded, doubting that she would have the chance to take Satsuki up on that offer. Wordlessly, she stood and left the room. Satsuki followed at a distance, almost skipping at the ease with which Yasuka complied.

"I'll go this way," the pink haired girl announced, nodding towards the left corridor, "Text me when you find him or something."

"Sure." Yasuka replied, managing a minuscule smile.

Following a mutual nod of agreement, they parted ways.

Having no real investment in the search led Yasuka's vigour to be a little lacking. She walked the halls at her own pace, shoulders almost but not quite stooped. If she ran into anyone, she wondered what excuse she might give them in place of the truth. An association with Aomine could damage her reputation; perhaps she could bring up the 'tutoring' lie again.

There was a long, exhale in the loneliness of corridor. Even if she did find Aomine, she had no idea how to convince him to do anything. She would rather avoid making him angry, because despite how much fun it was, their relationship was a precarious one. They walked the edge of a knife.

Fate had become both interfering and rude of late. Though they might try, it seemed impossible to avoid each other. Satsuki was no help. She still appeared to be under the impression that they were 'friends', that Yasuka even _had_ friends – or friends like Aomine, at least.

Typically, it was Yasuka who did the using. She hated Aomine purely because she hated feeling used, and that feeling was all he had offered her so far. Yasuka, for the years she had been in school with and observed Aomine, had decided that he used others like stepping stones. What–

"_Hey-!_"

Yasuka was again cut short. Both thoughts and talk halted as confusion stepped in and the world became a blur. She was aware of the pressure on her arm – a hand, a glimpse of blue hair – before being dragged sideways. When Yasuka had the moment to reorientate herself, she realised she had been pulled straight into the boy's toilets.

"It smells like shit in here." She observed.

Daiki Aomine stood above her, scowling down. "Shouldn't you be used to this?"

"No." Yasuka retorted. "I'm a _girl_."

"Not all the time." He reminded her.

"Just because I dress like a boy doesn't mean I can't call myself a girl, idiot."

He stared at her, not betraying any real emotion. Moments like these made it difficult to tell what he was thinking.

Yasuka crossed her arms, still disgruntled from the experience. "So, why am I in the boy's toilets anyway?"

Aomine looked towards the door. "Satsuki."

"Figured. She asked me to help look for you."

"That's why you were walking around?" He guessed, to which she nodded. "Man, she can be so annoying sometimes."

"She's trying to help, isn't she?" Yasuka wondered, having no real idea what the problem was between them.

"Tch. She wants me to start practising basketball."

"So do it. She's your manager, listen to her for once."

"I don't need to practise." Aomine dismissed.

"Really? That's pretty arrogant of you," Yasuka teased, "Guess it explains why you suck so much."

Aomine took a step forward, glowering, and she attempted to move back – forgetting about the wall behind her.

"I crush anyone in my way." He declared. Aomine's hand met the wall above her head, resting there as a brace. He leaned close, as if there was any reason to. Yasuka couldn't think of one, but maybe he had.

Her lips twitched into a smirk. "_Anyone_?" she mocked.

He gave a near imperceptible nod. "I'll prove it. Next game we play, you come along and watch."

"Watch you lose? Wouldn't miss it for the world."

Their proximity ensured that she didn't miss much. Yasuka noticed how Aomine's eyes travelled from hers, downwards.

"Eyes up, pervert." She snapped. Her harsh tone caused Aomine to jerk backwards, creating a more appropriate distance between them.

Aomine's lips were pursued with words eager to be said, to which Yasuka raised a questioning brow. "What?"

"…Nothing." He decided.

"Good-"

Aomine interrupted her before she could continue. "Just that if you think I'll lose, you obviously haven't seen me play."

"I have, actually."

"Huh? When?"

Yasuka rolled her eyes, wondering how she had not expected this from him. "Well, it can't be that surprising Aho-mine, considering we've been attending this school together for a year and a half now, _and_ we went to the same middle school."

"We did?" Aomine murmured.

"Yes." Yasuka confirmed, annoyed that he hadn't realised. As if it might prompt him, she added, "I had long hair then."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Don't remember."

"I'm surprised you remember anything that isn't to do with basketball, or yourself." Yasuka retorted harshly.

Pride was the one thing she held to, even if there was nothing else. To damage that was to open the gates to years pent up frustration and holding back on crude insults. Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed one other thing opening as well; the door.

Acting more than she was thinking, Yasuka reached up and grabbed Aomine's collar. She yanked him forward, just in time to help him avoid the door. The problem was that now, he was a great deal closer to her and it was making it rather difficult to breathe.

"What the fu-" he began to exclaim.

"A-A-Aomine?!"

Aomine was too distracted to reply to the newcomer, struggling to step back against Yasuka's grip on his shirt.

"Sorry." She muttered, letting him go.

Aomine stepped back, and the boy behind him barely managed to move out of the way. He was short enough to be only a few inches taller than Yasuka, with plain hair and wide, brown eyes.

"Sakurai." Aomine greeted curtly, eyeing him carefully.

The boy bowed his head slightly. "Um…?"

Yasuka caught his train of thought. "It's not what you think," she reassured quickly, "I'm…tutoring Aomine."

"Like that makes it sound any better! Besides, you overuse that excuse." Aomine berated.

"I didn't think anything!" Sakurai exclaimed, "Sorry!"

Yasuka continued to stare at him, bewildered by his apology. "He's one of your teammates, right?"

"Yeah." Aomine sighed.

"Sorry." Sakurai blurted again.

"What the hell for?" Yasuka wondered.

"I, uh, I don't know- sorry! Shit, sorry for saying sorry!" Sakurai bowed in front of them again.

"Whatever, I'm going," she declared, "Just don't you dare tell anyone about this, Sakurai."

Yasuka secured a grip on Aomine's arm, the other hand reaching for the door handle.

"Hey, where-?" he began to growl.

"Satsuki still wants to talk to you." Yasuka reminded.

"Well, I can find her on my own."

"Oh, shut up, I'm not an idiot. Unlike you…"

Their argument echoed in the bathroom, a lingering memory of which was only one witness to. Sakurai had remained too stunned to speak, staring at the closing door for a while after they left. It almost made him smile to hear them still quarrelling from the hall.

Outside, free from the smell of toilet, Yasuka took a deep breath of clean air. She paused by the window opposite, leaning against the frame. Despite the passing time, the rain had continued to pour down.

"You know," she said, as Aomine wandered over, "It's your fault that I keep acting like this. I do have a reputation to preserve."

"Would it really be so bad if people knew that you were really a moody brat?" he argued in turn.

"Yes." Yasuka said it as if it were definite, as though she had evidence. "No one would like me otherwise."

Aomine scoffed at her. "Well I know the real you, and-"

She turned to him abruptly. "And what?" she inquired, green eyes narrowing.

"And," Aomine had to look away as he admitted this. It wasn't from the shame, although the feeling had that same, stomach-twisting effect.

It was strange, coming from him. "I guess…I like you."

* * *

**Ah ****_development._**** This was one of my favourite chapters to write.**

**Thanks for reading and as always, reviews are welcome :)**

**Next chapter: it is not unsual for Aomine to play basketball just as it isn't for them to argue. Satsuki's imagination is probably not that far from the truth. Yasuka would never admit it, but it's equally as hard to deny.**


	9. it's hard to fight the feeling

**Thanks for all reading and reviews so far!**

* * *

**_9 – it's hard to fight the feeling_**

The squeak of basketball shoes on gym floors, a crowd cheering for victory, and the look on Aomine's face, were all very distinctive.

It made it very hard for Yasuka to concentrate on anything else. Satsuki might have been saying something at her side, and someone else might have been scoring a point, but there was that look she couldn't get out of her head. Determination, maybe even happiness. Aomine relished a challenge, and Yasuka loved to watch one.

Too bad the game was merely a practise match.

"So, you've played these guys before?" Yasuka asked, perched on the bench beside Satsuki.

It had taken special permission from the coach to enable her to come along. Though Satsuki had done her best to charm him, it had been Aomine who won the couch, Harasawa, over.

"Yeah. Last year at the Interhigh, and Winter Cup. Seirin even managed to win against us there." Satsuki added. Her persona as manager was far more serious than what Yasuka was used to.

"Seriously? Aomine's a monster out there."

Satsuki nodded agreeably. "It was a one point difference. Mostly, it was due to luck, Aomine's own shortcomings, and that guy over there." She pointed towards the opposing school's bench.

Yasuka followed her finger, her eyes meeting the profile of a tall redhead. His physic wasn't what one expected from a highschooler, and neither was the scowl he wore – uncannily similar to Aomine's. As if agitated, his fingers drummed against his knee.

"He's their ace then," she concluded, "Why is he benched?"

"An ankle injury sustained from unknown causes. Not basketball related."

Yasuka was silent for the following moments, returning her attention back to the game. For a practise match, it was fast-paced and full of tension. It was blatantly apparent that there was history between the two teams, which might have been the reasoning behind the match. The competition could push the teams to perform better in the long run.

Yasuka could relate to that. Competition had always motivated her. It was why she studied so furiously, and poured all that effort into her public persona. Not that it was palpable today – Yasuka had woken up too late to make any effort. With Satsuki coming by to pick her up, and Yasuka waking a little after lunch, there hadn't been much time to dress. That was the reason she gave as her appearance.

More boyish than usual, she wore loose jeans, a baggy band t-shirt, and her shabby, back-up shoes. Makeup was kept to the essentials, and her un-brushed hair had been hidden with a beanie. A recent haircut had trimmed the dark waves back to her jaw.

The revere was broken by a tap on her shoulder. "See the guy out there with the light blue hair?" Satsuki asked.

It took Yasuka a moment, but she did finally spot him. "How long has he been playing?"

The pink haired girl smiled softly. "That's Tetsuya Kuroko."

"The one who's almost you're boyfriend?"

"That's the one."

"Huh."

Satsuki cast her a questioning glance. "What?"

"Well, he just seems pretty…unremarkable." Yasuka confessed, hoping that she hadn't just caused irreversible damage.

Thankfully, Satsuki seemed more than happy to forgive and educate. "He's really nice and sweet and he's helped me through a lot of things."

Doubt still lingered. "Boring," she decided for herself, "Wouldn't you prefer someone like, I don't know…Aomine?"

The moment the name left Yasuka's lips, she knew she would regret it. The wild-eyed look directed her way foretold of endless teasing and inevitable doom. Yasuka knew it, yet the words left her anyway.

"Yasuka, you don't-," Satsuki almost choked on her grin, "Why Aomine?"

She felt her fingers twitch. "It was an example; he's a complete idiot, Satsuki. Get your mind out of the gutter."

"You do! You so do!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." lied Yasuka.

Satsuki lifted her head to her newly-made friend's ear. "You do." She whispered happily.

"_No, I_- Look," A change of subject would be most opportune, "There's a minute left of the match. If you don't want to be a shit manager, you should pay attention."

With a steady, measured air, Yasuka kept her eyes on the intricacies of basketball. Having never watched a game this intense close up, the resemblance to a physical fight was remarkable. There was defence and attack, winning and losing. Though not particularly involved in sports, Yasuka still empathised with the hatred of losing. Winning was far more satisfactory – in her life, winning could also mean living.

"We're fourteen points ahead." Satsuki reminded her companion.

"Never too late to stop trying." argued Yasuka with an accompanying shrug.

"We won't lose." She asserted confidently.

A careless shrug revealed Yasuka's apathy. She liked to hope, but even as she watched the game progress into its final seconds, Wakamatsu scored another point. Satsuki's data and calculations had been right this time.

Her attention drifted to Aomine. Too often, she found that happening; it was annoying to have to will herself to look away. What was even more infuriating was that he wasn't even participating in the game. Aomine had resigned himself to standing there, motionless, and watching.

He may have stood on the court, but he had stopped playing a long time ago. Perhaps, he saw their inevitable victory and had grown bored – that was something Aomine would do.

Sensing her gaze, Aomine turned his head slightly. His eyes met hers, unwavering, and smallest of smiles grew.

Yasuka could tell he was thinking of his promise – to prove his strength, and that he would win – and with bitter-sweet acceptance that he was, for once, _right_, she also smiled.

"I thought you didn't like him." Satsuki remarked, nudging her with her elbow.

She opened her mouth to reply, clever retort already in mind, only to be cut off. The whistle signalled the end of the game.

"Tōō Academy wins!"

Aomine scoffed at the announcement. As the teams began to drift back to their individual benches, neither showing any particular enthusiasm for the outcome, Satsuki left Yasuka's side to stand up. Shortly after, a shadow fell across them.

"Have fun '_crushing'_ them, Aho-mine?" Yasuka teased.

"Still questioning my strength, Nakamura?" Aomine retorted.

Yasuka scowled, more against the overhead light than anything else. "I've seen you play since you were in middle school, idiot. I never questioned your strength."

"It really is too much to expect." muttered Satsuki to herself.

Aomine turned to her. "Expect what?"

"You could have just said, 'well done' and 'thanks'." She reprimanded, frowning at the two of them.

There was a single look shared between Yasuka and Aomine. "_Boring_." They chorused together.

Which wasn't to say that Satsuki was wrong. It just so happened that they spoke a different language. Satsuki's hope for them, a _'them'_ that was together, was twisted by her love of romantics, and she knew that. Already, Yasuka had profoundly affected Aomine with such strength that Satsuki felt personally indebted; but that effect had not stemmed from affection.

"Anyway," Yasuka sighed, "did you get your revenge?"

"Revenge?" Aomine repeated dumbly.

"Yeah, _revenge_."

Satsuki explained. "I told her about our loss to Seirin last year."

"That wasn't a loss. That was a challenge." Aomine corrected. There was a dangerous air about his tone.

Yasuka took the initiative and replied, "You must really like basketball, Aomine."

He stared down at her. "Huh?"

She rolled her eyes. "I said 'you must really like basketball', Aho-mine."

His lip curled in distaste, although there was an unusual absence of a retort. Perhaps he had finally accepted the nickname.

"Well, I play basketball." Aomine offered in response.

"Well, that's a headliner right there!"

"Shut up!"

"Both of you-!" cried Satsuki, her voice shattering the tension, "-Aomine, go get changed with the rest of the team."

"I don't need to listen to you."

In a swift, sudden movement, Yasuka stood. Aomine was unblinking despite how quickly the gap between them had been closed – neither seemed to care much about personal space.

"You really should listen to Satsuki," she commented, wrinkling her nose, "You stink."

"And I want us all to go out for food when we've finished up here." Satsuki added cheerfully, as if this would somehow be a pleasant affair.

Yasuka's realisation caused Aomine's presence to then drop from her mind. "Oh, speaking of, do you think you could help me find a dress, Satsuki?"

"Sure. What for?"

"My sister's birthday's coming up and my mum's making us go out for tea."

Satsuki nodded for the sack of acknowledgement.

"And you think a dress will fix how you look, Nakamura?"

Yasuka held back the growl in her throat. "Oh, you're still here, Aomine?" she gasped, faking surprise.

His eyebrow twitched in annoyance, but, to the surprise of everyone, he said nothing. Rather, he turned away from Satsuki and Yasuka, ambling along after the rest of the team. The two girls were left to watch his retreat, wide-eyed and mildly stunned.

"Maybe there is hope." Satsuki murmured.

"Hope for what?"

Silence was prevalent. Satsuki found herself replying with a wink and secretive smile – it was something Yasuka had to discover for herself.

* * *

**Hm, I don't really have anything to add or explain about this chapter...**

**Next chapter: of all the strange forces at work, present in Yasuka's life, chance is the most unpredictable. It leads to new acquaintances, an awakened acknowledgement, and the eyes on their backs.**


	10. a million ends collide

**_10 – a million ends collide_**

Aomine wondered if he should thank luck for his good fortune. Certainly, that seemed like the most logical thing to do in a world without just that. He had been given a cover, a lie, to protect his reputation. If he were entirely like Yasuka, he might have appreciated the coincidence.

He couldn't, however, when there was a small part of him that wanted everyone to know. He wanted everyone to see him walking around with Yasuka Nakamura, the untouchable and most desired girl in his year. The problem was how she was dressed – no one would suspect that the Yasuka they knew would be the person beside him. Dressed like a boy, and acting the way that was most natural to her, he doubted that anyone's first thought would be _oh, that's Yasuka_.

But Aomine wanted it to be, for the single, lonely reason that he wanted them to misunderstand.

"Aomine?"

She had finally noticed him staring. "What?" he growled, tearing his eyes away.

"Can you _please_," Yasuka gazed up at him imploringly, "go buy me a drink?"

"Why the hell should I?"

"_Please."_ Yasuka insisted, pouting. The longer he waited, the wider her eyes grew. Aomine could see their spectrum in detail, dark greens streaked with lighter shades.

"Tch. Fine."

"Thanks!"

"Only to make you shut up." He reminded her.

Yasuka only grinned cheekily, before blowing him a kiss. "I'll be waiting on the seat right here."

True to her word, Yasuka immediately took a seat on the bench behind her. Aomine had already begun to wander away, making a beeline for the vending machine. It was slow going, as he had to push his way through the Saturday afternoon crowd.

It had been a few hours since the practise match between Tōō and Seirin. Though, as Satsuki had promised, they had been out for a post-lunch snack, it still hadn't been enough to satisfy Aomine. When Yasuka thought back on the day, she could vividly recall him complaining about his hunger, while she continued to drag him into dress shops. Her excuse for asking him to stay was that she needed an opinion, given Satsuki's sudden departure at the behest of the girl's mother.

Whether with or without Satsuki's presence, Yasuka was acutely aware of her words. What had been said at the match wouldn't leave her alone – _do you?_ They were ominous words, particularly from Satsuki. She still didn't have an answer for Satsuki either, because she very well didn't understand her own feelings. At the least, Yasuka might have said _do I?_ For that was all she could think now.

Her revere was broken by the large crowd that walked by. Their shadows and loud voices woke her from the daze, causing Yasuka to glance around. Through the gap, she noticed Aomine returning.

Eager for the drink, which she was still surprised Aomine had bought for her, Yasuka stood as soon as the crowd passed. She took one step forward and–

"_Ow_!"

Yasuka glanced around wildly, looking for whoever had walked into her – because, of course, she would never be at fault. It took a moment, but she finally realised that the person had been knocked to the ground.

Yasuka remained standing, staring down at the boy. His hand was buried in his light blue locks, rubbing it in obvious hurt. Guilt welled at his pained grimace.

"Sorry!" she exclaimed, offering him a panicky hand up.

"It's my fault." The boy assured, looking up. His bright blue eyes blinked at her, slowly.

Yasuka frowned, recognising him easily. "You're-" She never finished her sentence.

"Nakamura!" Aomine had returned. _"…Tetsu?"_

"Aomine?"

"_Kuroko_!"

Yasuka winced at the footfalls behind her. She could tell, from the voice and her own intuition, that it was that Taigi Kagami, Seirin's ace, who came walking over so noisily.

Before yet another name could be exclaimed, she broke the tension by offering Kuroko a hand up. His blank stare met hers, and the visual contact remained as he ignored her help and stood on his own.

"I apologise for walking into to you." He murmured, bowing his head slightly. It wasn't surprising to find that Yasuka was taller than him, by however little.

"Your drink." interjected Aomine vaguely.

Understanding it nonetheless, Yasuka held out her hand to accept the can of drink unceremoniously.

"What the hell are you doing here, Aomine?"

Yasuka spun around, so that she might get a good look at the red-head from the practise match. She wondered how she could have been blind enough to miss those basketball uniforms, and someone so distinctive. Kagami was incredibly tall, matching her first impressions of him from earlier that day, while his red hair was noticeably two-toned and eyebrows split.

"Why the hell shouldn't I be here, Kagami?" Aomine retorted.

"Maybe Aomine likes to go dress shopping." added Yasuka teasingly.

The red-head shot her a confused, affronted look. "Who the f-," he stopped himself and began again, "Why would either of you need to go dress shopping?"

Yasuka crossed her arms, scoffing lightly. When Aomine agreed mockingly, saying, "Yeah, _why?_" Yasuka felt her scowl deepen.

It was Kuroko who saved the two basketballers from their untimely demise. "Kagami, if you haven't noticed, this is who was sitting with Satsuki at the game today. And-"

"_And _I'm a girl." Yasuka concluded.

"Barely." Aomine scoffed.

Kagami was looking on blankly. "A girl?"

She nodded stiffly. Though there was a temptation to introduce herself, she couldn't risk the association when she was dressed more like 'Yasuo', a boy, today. From Aomine's sideways glance, she presumed he had noticed her lack of action.

A little intimidated, Yasuka glanced down at her hand, reading the label of her drink to distract herself. "Aomine."

"What?"

"Why'd you buy the boysenberry flavour?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Got a problem?"

"Yes."

As with most of their time together, the two began to glare at each other. One of the fundamental differences between them was, however, the expression of their anger. Yasuka kept hers hidden better, kept it frozen, until the time was right for the perfect revenge.

"You're a whiny little brat, you know." He muttered.

"_Swap_." Yasuka demanded, ignoring the name-calling.

Aomine had only to look at her, before the two were snatching at each other's drinks. There was nothing gentle, not in the least bit affectionate, about the exchange – surely Satsuki's presumptions were wrong, unfounded.

Kuroko gingerly took a step sideways, only to pause as he came under the attention of all three gazes. "We should catch up to the rest of our team." He pointed out.

"So soon?" Yasuka lamented, "But you haven't even introduced yourselves!"

"He's Testuya Kuroko," Kagami replied, pointing towards the blue haired boy, "And I'm Taigi Kagami."

A smile played at her lips. "_Cute_." She remarked, eyeing Kagami flirtatiously. When she found the nerve to wink at him, he looked like he might faint from fright.

She was nearly knocked off balance when Aomine's hand landed on her head. "We have to go too." He growled.

Reflexively, she knocked his arm away with an inaudible curse. "_Killjoy_."

"Like I care what you think."

Aomine turned around, walking away from the two Seirin basketball players. Yasuka hesitated a moment longer, with just enough time to say to Kuroko and Kagami, "Seeya round."

"Uh, yeah…" Kagami's reply was faint, reaching Yasuka's ears from a distance.

She was never one to wait around, and so had left them behind in order to catch up to Aomine. Luckily, he was idling forward, and so she easily reached him.

"They seem nice." She remarked, skipping into stride. "Do you like them?"

"They're strong opponents."

Yasuka rolled her eyes. "You know, not everything has to be about basketball."

"It _isn't_."

"_Really_?" she gasped mockingly.

"Yes." Aomine confirmed.

Yasuka reached up to tug her beanie forward. "Then what else is important?" she asked, mildly curious.

"Big tits."

Yasuka's jaw clenched. When she looked across and saw the dead-serious expression he wore, defeat was inevitable. "Pervert." She sighed.

He glanced at her coolly. "So you don't have something you prefer?" Aomine retorted.

"I, uh…" Yasuka's eyes drifted away from Aomine. Knowing that he was still looking gave her goosebumps. "Well, height. They need to be taller than me."

"Typical."

"Like you're such an individual."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

With a familiar smugness, Yasuka readily elaborated. "You're still just like every other guy I know. I flirt with Taigi Kagami, and you get jealous."

"I-!"

"Don't argue with me, Aho-mine. I could see it written all over your face." Yasuka's exaggerations were always spoken so matter-of-factly.

"Bullshit."

"You were." She insisted.

"…like I would tell you."

"I'm always right."

Aomine scoffed at her, resigning himself to a prideful muteness.

The hiss of an opening soda can spilled into the quiet. Aomine was silent still, and Yasuka chose to take a drink instead of continuing the dispute. It was strange how insightful she could be sometimes; so strange it almost bordered upon frightening. Aomine wasn't sure whether to hate her or like her for it.

It was then that he felt an odd, tingling creep up his spine, like hands on his skin – or eyes on his back.

"What?" Yasuka wondered, following Aomine's lead and glancing around the area.

"…Nothing." He decided at length.

"Oh."

From there, the silence persisted, oddly drawn out. He glanced towards his companion. Yasuka's lips were curved into a smile, a curious, rare expression.

"What's up with you?" Aomine muttered.

She turned her grin in his direction. "I'm just happy, Aomine."

"Why?"

With no time to falter, she had to lie. "Maybe I just like being right."

* * *

**Ah, I loved this chapter as well. It was so much fun to write!**

**Next Chapter: The difference between people and problems is that Yasuka can handle people. Problems have a way of getting under her skin, reaching for that heart she tries to hard to keep hidden.**


	11. itch my skin to the bone

_**11 – itch my skin to the bone**_

"You know, Rika, I think I have a problem."

"So do I."

Yasuka's eyebrow rose in disbelief. "Really? You're gonna say that while you're eating an entire pizza _by yourself_?"

"I might even have another." Rika revealed, seemingly serious.

Honestly, Yasuka couldn't doubt the claim. After being friends for so many years, she had come to never doubt Rika's capacity for eating. Every time they ate out, she bought enough for three people – Yasuka would have been embarrassed, if not for lack of judgement. They understood each other, and Yasuka had accepted Rika and her extravagancies a long time ago.

"Well?" Rika asked, voice muffled from a mouth full of food.

"Well what?"

She swallowed. "Your problem?"

"Oh, yeah." Yasuka sighed wistfully, earning her a roll of the eyes. "I think I like someone."

Rika's eyes flew open, her mouth unhinged. "_What_?"

"But I'm not sure if I really do! Most of the time he's an idiot."

"Like that stopped you dating that last jerk," Rika remarked dryly, "But who is it?"

"…Daiki Aomine."

"I knew it." Rika nodded, grinning at herself.

The table shook as Yasuka slammed her hands against the edge. "You have to _swear_ not tell _anyone_." She hissed.

"Of course- and stop fidgeting; no one's gonna care if they hear that someone likes someone else."

"Well, I'm dressed as 'Yasuo' tonight, and if someone recognises me and realises that I, Yasuo, associate with others-"

Rika swallowed her laughter with an ungainly snort. "Shut up." She ordered, smiling despite.

"You know I'm never gonna listen to you." Yasuka reminded her.

"And _you_ know that's a lie."

Rika was licking the last remnants of her meal from her fingers when Yasuka decided to stand. Rika watched her curiously, before wordlessly deciding to follow. With a friendship like this, words were hardly needed to convey thoughts. They had both become mostly predictable to the other.

On the way out the door, Rika stopped by a bin to discard of the pizza box, before proceeding. Outside, the winter chill was setting in. Rika had dressed considerably light – leggings and large knit – while Yasuka looked fully prepared to move to either of the Poles, north and south. Sweats, three tops and the addition of a hoodie and striped scarf had certainly seen her set for the harshest of winters.

Yasuka stepped close to Rika as they made their way down the street. It seemed to act as a prompt for conversation.

"So, why do you even like Aomine?"

Yasuka shrugged. "Wish you would talk about something else." She muttered.

"I asked Atsushi a few weeks ago, ya know. I'm not sure if this is a good thing, but he said that 'Mine-chin is good at basketball'."

"Why _are_ they all so obsessed with basketball?" Yasuka sighed, before backtracking suddenly, exclaiming, "Wait, did you just say _Mine-chin_?"

"It's what Atsushi nicknames people." Rika explained disinterestedly.

Yasuka hardly paid heed to her words, instead muttering, "I'm so going to use that against him."

"Are you capable of paying attention to me for longer than three seconds?" snapped Rika. "Answer the question."

"What I like about him?"

"Yes." Rika huffed, growing impatient.

"He's interesting."

"Elaborate."

Yasuka shoved her hands into her pockets, irritably hoping Rika thought the pink on her cheeks was the doing of the cold. "Why should I? Would you tell me what you like about Atsushi?"

Though it was informal to call him that, Yasuka kept forgetting his last name, and Rika only referred to him by his first. If they ever ended up meeting, it could be potentially problematic; though Rika assured her he wouldn't care.

"He's taller than me, for one, and he shares food with me, which is kinda sweet. Also he makes me smile." concluded Rika immediately.

Yasuka shot her sly look. "You so _love_-"

"Shut up!"

The dark haired girl giggled uncharacteristically. "Well, then, I guess I would say that it's because he's taller than me, steals my food, and makes me want to punch him."

A lanky arm settled comfortable around her shoulders. "Well, Yasuo, I guess you _so lo_-"

"Sometimes I also want to punch you."

"Likewise."

The pair were just rounding the coming corner, Yasuka taking a deep breath, when they came to a sudden halt – staring wide-eyed.

"_Hey_!"

Three men, all young, all fearsome, straightened at the sight of them.

"_Hey_, you're," one of them continued, "that scary chick who hangs out with Yasuo."

"So what?" Rika retorted, tense. Three against two were not good odds.

One of the guys nudged the middle man. "Shit, man." Their eyes simultaneously turned to Yasuka.

Drawing herself up, shoulders straight, she stepped forward. Her irritation swelled. "You realise, right," she growled, "that this is _my_ territory."

"Not if we take it from you."

"Now that's a joke."

One of them shrugged coolly. "Where's that bat you hide behind all the time?" he clued in. "Because I don't need a weapon to kick ass."

Yasuka's lip curled. "Neither do I."

"She's got me." Rika added, crossing her arms.

"Well that's fuc-"

Without a word, or indication of her intent, Yasuka launched herself forward. Her shoes were thick-soled, and crushed the toes beneath them. The guy, black-haired with a small lip scar, yelped in pain. "_Shit!" _he hissed, but Yasuka's pity didn't stop her from regretting standing on his foot.

"You'll pay for that!"

Yasuka took a step back even as Rika moved forward. She stood tall, almost taller than them, and towered over. She seemed to embody a shadow of doom, and her glare sent shivers down their spine.

"Dude," whispered the bespectacled guy at the back, "Are you sure you really wanna fight _her_?"

Yasuka felt her irritation swell once more. "I'm right here, ya know. And I'm kinda the leader of the gang." She grumbled.

"Yeah, and you're useless." Rika shot back over her shoulder.

"Maybe you wouldn't think that if you didn't go charging in to _every_ fight _every _time – I can't exactly prove it if you beat them all up first."

The guy with the lip-scar growled deep in throat. "Listen-" But he didn't get much further.

"_Yasuo!_"

Though he sang the name, Michio's voice was loud enough to carry across the street and still be heard with perfect clarity.

"Perfect." Rika grinned, heralding the doom of their enemies.

Yasuka beckoned to Michio, who came darting across the road without any caution. Behind him, collected as ever, stood Akihiko – the two of them were becoming inseparable. He offered her a distant smile, though Michio's goofy expression soon occupied the space in front of Yasuka.

"Good timing." She told them gruffly.

As Akihiko drew closer, he was more able to properly assess the situation. "I hope there's not any trouble here." He remarked at last.

"_Ahh_…"

Rika scoffed at the rival gang's impudence and newfound speechlessness.

"Yeah," Michio agreed, stomping forward, "You rats better scurry home."

His hand reached inside his jacket pocket, drawing it back so that the circle of people could all clearly see the knife there. Yasuka kept her eyes forward, taking a place next to her friends.

"Four against three." She declared.

"Akari, we better leave. We'll get in trouble with _him_." One of the guys muttered.

"Yeah, man, I'm so not up for that."

Rika, who existed in surprisingly more civil circles, turned her eyes back to Yasuka. "Are they talking about Seiji Morita?" she mouthed slowly.

Yasuka nodded stiffly. Despite her lifestyle and slightly criminal activities, she had yet to meet the elusive leader of the Morita gang. It was something of a sore point, considering what Kaname had told her of the man; allegedly, he showed himself to opponents he considered worthy. While Yasuka might not have been as active of late, nor as experienced, it was a blow to the pride nonetheless.

The black haired one's lip scar contorted as his lips settled into a scowl. Michio's hand was a steady threat, tracked by many sets of eyes. A relenting exhale signalled the end of the interaction.

"One day." The black haired man threatened.

"Stick it up your ass." Michio muttered in turn.

Thankfully, the trio were already turning away. They were smart enough to not mistake losing for survival, nor set pride on a pedestal over pain. Yasuka was glad, immensely so, and her shaky breath told her so.

"I hate those guys." She concluded decidedly.

"Who don't you hate?" Rika retorted.

"_Well_…"

Michio interjected himself into the conversation carelessly. "It's me, isn't it? I always knew it."

"If anyone, I think it would be me." Akihiko argued.

Rika struggled to contain her laughter. Failure was imminent when a few ungainly snorts escaped her.

"What?" Michio huffed.

"You idiots."

"Hey! And I was gonna be nice and ask you to come around to Akihiko's with me!"

Akihiko smiled serenely. "Michio," he reminded gently, "It's my house, so I do the inviting. Which means that, Rika and Yasuo, you're _both_ invited."

"Just so long as Rika doesn't keep laughing at me," muttered the blond, before adding thoughtfully, "Or until she tells me why."

"She wouldn't." Yasuka snapped quickly. A secret wasn't really a secret if everyone knew it.

Rika's eyebrow rose. "Wouldn't I?"

She nodded, glaring an order. Rika would not, and it would be because Yasuka had trusted her. She had shared with her something she rarely would – a weakness. They were the things best kept hidden, but coveted by those who loved to crush hopes and dreams.

It had been the keeping of secrets that had protected Yasuka all this time. To change that was deplorable – but not entirely impossible.

* * *

**So this chapter is the unofficially official halfway mark! I don't know whether to be sad or not...It probably means I should finish up some other stories to get ready for publishing (even though I'm so sick right now I really can't be bothered).**

**Enjoy the update and thanks for reading!**

**Next chapter: She had thought of them as planets out of alignment. Only recently had Yasuka decided to change that, and there was no better opportunity for miracles than on a birthday. **


	12. they will fall, eventually, into orbit

**Oops, I'm late I know.**

* * *

_**12 – they will fall, eventually, into orbit**_

Yasuka had lost count of the times she'd been called names in her life. It was too many to count – though _bitch_ was certainly one that she would remember. And she could also recall the number of times Aomine had called her that. _None_. Now, while the term could also be interpreted to fit different meanings to Yasuka, it also spoke leagues for his character.

And, considering it was his birthday and she was in a particularly good mood that day, Yasuka had decided to bring him a gift. It was an act of good will – or so she assured herself – and it was _just_ bento.

There was no harm in that. It was a birthday present, between friends; though Yasuka was notorious for using the term 'friend' very loosely.

But as her feet continued up the staircase and towards the roof, there was a desire to hesitate. The door was just there, silhouetted by sunlight, and before Yasuka could decide to do anything, her hand turning handle.

Though the sun temporarily blinded her, Yasuka adjusted quickly to the outside light. Looking around, she spotted Aomine's blue-hair on top of the highest part of the roof. Not smiling, though feeling as if she was, Yasuka began to scale the ladder up to him.

What she saw at the top was not what she had expected, though she should have. It made sense that she would be exceptionally annoyed to find him sleeping. She had even come all this way to give him a present.

Yasuka bit back a curse, but pulled herself the rest of the way upwards anyway. She took a seat, cross-legged despite her skirt, and left the bento box by her knees as she considered the options.

A smile tilted her lips as she decided to wake him, and promptly lifted her hand towards Aomine's face. He let out a soft snore, seemed almost peaceful, but frowned as her finger traced the length of his nose. His forehead wrinkled and fingers twitched in irritation.

Another moment passed, before Aomine went to slap away what was tickling him – and missed. He had, instead, hit himself squarely on the nose.

"_OW_!"

Yasuka could barely contain herself. Her laughter left her as easily as air, though breath was soon short. Aomine's wide-eyed, look of blank confusion was irresistibly idiotic. She could not stop laughing, just as he could not stop glaring.

"What the _hell_ are you doing?!" He snarled.

"You- you're face!" she giggled, attempting to restrain herself.

"Shut up," Aomine ordered, pushing himself upright, "Answer the damn question."

Yasuka placed a hand over her mouth to muffle the laughter. "You're glowing." She teased, referring to the red mark his hand had left. She hadn't actually thought he would be stupid enough to hit himself in the face.

"And whose fault it that?"

"You shouldn't be sleeping at school." She reminded him.

"Like I care. Just tell me what you want."

Yasuka shrugged lightly. "Well, _friend_, I thought I should wish you a happy birthday. And give you this."

She slid the bento across the ground towards him. Aomine stared down at it oddly, perplexed.

"Why?" he wondered.

"People give other people presents on their birthday. It's a thing, Aomine."

"There's really no point." Aomine replied coolly.

"Take it." snapped Yasuka.

He was just as quick to reply, "I _will_."

"_Good_."

"And I'm not sharing."

She rolled her eyes, something Aomine misinterpreted as a question. He explained by jabbing a finger at his face, still red, and adding, "_This_'s why."

"I don't care, and it's your fault." She retorted.

"How?" he pressed, "I was sleeping, and you decided to come along and annoy me."

"Considering you sleep most of the time anyway, you shouldn't be complaining."

Aomine shot her a usual glare, before turning his attention to the food. His stomach had won him over, and he opened the box to array of food with pleasure. Yasuka had been right to think he would be hungry – he almost always was – and would have thought the look on his face cute had he not been stuffing his face like a pig.

He paused only to say, "Sleeping at school is different to sleeping at home."

"What? Because you actually have to wear clothes here?" The words tumbled out before she could consider them, but not so quickly that she couldn't regret them midsentence.

Aomine stared at her. "You think I sleep naked?"

She shrugged nonchalantly, but the blush was undeniable. Thankfully, Aomine chose to ignore this; he had decided it was something too complicated to be bothered worrying about.

"Do _you_ sleep naked?" he questioned.

"That's none of your business." She muttered.

Aomine nodded soundly, point made, before leaning across the space between them. He placed one hand beside her knee, while his face drew level with hers. Yasuka felt herself lean back, uncomfortable.

"And how I sleep is also none of _your_ business," he concluded, "_Pervert._"

Yasuka's lips puckered into a pout before she threw her head sideways. Aomine's growing knack for sensitivity alerted him to her unease, and so he too turned away. There was no need to prolong either of their embarrassment, when there was an abundance of it already.

It was this thought that led to Aomine's sudden calm disposition. When she again chose to annoy him by propping her back up against his arm, he found that rather than grow irate, he accepted the closeness without dispute.

"They were meant to be character bento." Yasuka mumbled after a minute, her head falling against his shoulder.

"In what-" he reconsidered his answer halfway through, "…I mean, I guess I can see it."

A sound of contentment emanated from her throat. Aomine would never admit it, but he was glad his vague compliment had worked – she had probably spent a lot of time on the food.

"You want any?" he offered slowly.

"It's a present, Aho-mine."

Like he wasn't sure how to pronounce the word, Aomine ventured to say, "…Thank you?"

"You're welcome." She replied happily.

Though Yasuka's dark hair may have been short, it was thick enough to create a sort of cushion against Aomine's shoulder for her. She had to shield the left side of her face with a hand, the sun intent upon blinding her. It was a nice day, absent of Yasuka's usual misgivings.

"Do you still remember when you were lying to people about tutoring me?" Aomine broke the silence carelessly.

"That was months ago, but yeah."

"Why'd you stop?"

Yasuka gave a noncommittal shrug. "People would have stopped believing it eventually, and when you went back to being an arrogant jerk and left me alone, it would have been stupid to keep pretending." Aomine made a strange sound of acknowledgement, piquing her curiosity. "Why does it matter?"

"Curiosity."

"Liar."

Aomine nudged her back with his shoulder, as it to convey his irritation. "Fine," replied bitingly, "I'm failing maths."

Caught in surprise, mostly at herself for finding the news unexpected, Yasuka sat up properly. She swivelled on the spot to face Aomine. "How?" she marvelled.

"The work doesn't make sense." He shrugged, as if it were no big deal.

Yasuka crossed her arms. "You realise that next year is our last in school. You can't afford to be failing."

"Exactly."

"_Exactly_ what?"

Aomine rolled his eyes, as if Yasuka were the dumb one of the two. "You were always saying you tutored me. Now you can actually do it."

She let out a single, barking laugh. "Yeah right, Aho-mine."

His eyebrows furrowed and lip twitched. It hurt his pride to say this, but for the sake of staying in school – and, by extent, continuing playing basketball – he managed it. "_Please_."

Yasuka eyed him carefully. The scrutiny proved too much, as his eyes lingered only a little before turning away. In a rare display of generosity, Yasuka considered the idea and asked, "Why should I?"

"Because we're friends."

It seemed too much to hope for, that the understanding would be mutual. Yasuka could hardly believe her ears, but his eyes said it all again. Knowing that they were friends, however unwittingly, was what tipped her favour.

"Fine, I'll tutor you." Yasuka sighed.

He nodded, obstinately keeping his eyes away from her. Absently, she realised that lunch must have been about to finish. The bento lay at his side, all but licked clean. It was nice to see someone appreciate effort when it was made; yet strange, considering it was Aomine to do so.

She broke the silence with a quiet breath. "…I'm going now."

Again, Aomine said nothing. He held that silence until Yasuka had just began to descend the ladder downwards.

"Nakamura," he said suddenly, "Are you going to the festival this weekend?"

"Well I don't want to be cursed for not going, and Satsuki invited me."

"Is that a yes?"

Yasuka considered this for a second. "Will you go if it is?"

Despite the odd look flitting across his features, Aomine nodded jerkily. Yasuka beamed at him.

"It's a yes, then."

* * *

**Hm, a festival? Wonder what stereotypical situation might happen there.**

**Guess you'll just have to wait to find out~**

**Next chapter: Yasuka's life, in all aspects, appears to be going nowhere. She and Aomine seem to have settled for something less than satisfactory - but a good festival ought to cheer them up.**


	13. when fantasies are shared: part 1

**Enjoy this (slightly) early update!**

* * *

**_13 – when fantasies are shared: part 1_**

"Just stop pulling on your yukata, Yasuka. You'll ruin it in a second, and all your mum's work will be for nothing."

Rika's warning went unheeded, as the shorter of the two friends continued playing with the sleeve. "It feels twisted." Yasuka insisted.

"You're just nervous."

"Nervous about what?"

"Seeing Ao-what's-his-face."

"Aomine?" Yasuka laughed, "Don't be stupid, Rika."

Rika, who walked ahead, raised a finger as if to count off her points of reason. "It can't be the yukata, since you love dressing up, and it can't be the festival, because you love showing off. That leaves that jerk, who you said makes you feel sick with love."

"I never said that. Just that he makes me feel sick." Yasuka corrected her coolly.

A few quick steps brought the two level with each other, though not in height. Considering their tallness, it had been a struggle to find long-enough yukatas for them both. While Rika had settled for a second-hand one, a hand-me-down from her just as tall mother, Yasuka had ventured out one evening to spend her wages. Her own mother, Sakura, had chipped in after learning that the robes could be passed down to her little sister in time. That was if Chihiro decided to grow any taller.

Warm streams of streetlamp light flooded the night, and the distant glow of the festival activity created a buzz of anticipation. Yasuka's hand only left her sleeve alone to flee to her bun. Rika saw this, and rolled her eyes predictably.

"He doesn't sound like the type to care, ya know." She remarked.

"But _I_ care." argued Yasuka.

"And you shouldn't. You look fine."

"Rika, I'm pretty sure I always like better than just _fine_."

Though Yasuka jested, there was a grain of truth to her words. With the amount of effort invested into crafting her appearance, she had every right to take pride in her looks. It wasn't like she was blind, after all.

"Shit," Yasuka muttered, spotting the beginning of the festival street in the distance, "Am I good?" she inquired, gesturing to her makeup.

Rika offered her a brief glance. "Yeah. Am I?"

"Prettier than I expected."

"That better be a compliment." Rika scowled.

"Of course." assured Yasuka, so sweetly that it couldn't be told from truth or lies.

As had been agreed, they were all meeting beneath the shade of the giant tree. It was an ancient cherry blossom that loomed over the street, and marked the beginning of stalls and celebrations. Yasuka had yet to look closely, but she knew that both Satsuki and Aomine were already waiting. From there, they had decided to make their own way through the night.

Rika hoped to run into Murasakibara. Satsuki hoped to get Aomine and Yasuka alone; apparently what they wanted was now irrelevant.

"Yasu-chan!"

Satsuki's voice carried along the street, and Yasuka returned her wave enthusiastically. Though she wore, like most girls, a traditional yukata, the glowering Aomine who stood next to her was dressed in a hoodie and shorts. The moment Yasuka looked towards him, he turned away.

"Hey, Satsuki," the short haired girl greeted when near enough, "You haven't met Rika before, but this is her."

Yasuka gestured to the girl beside her, who smiled thinly. "You're taller than I expected." Was all Satsuki had to say.

"And that's Aomine." continued Yasuka, pointing to the one in question.

"We've met." He reminded them both, thinking back to that night months ago.

Rika nodded abruptly. "Unfortunately." She added.

"Well, let's get going." Satsuki decided, already stepping away from the tree.

Yasuka made to follow, only glancing back to discover Rika on her phone. With a sigh of exasperation, she grabbed her arm and pulled her alone. Having one arm taken didn't bother Rika in the slightest, as she continued to text as they walked. Aomine trailed along after them all, casually glowering.

Once entering the myriad of stalls and people, Yasuka realised just how easy it was to become lost in a sea of such vibrant colour. Luckily for her, both Aomine and Satsuki had odd coloured hair that made them stick out amidst the darker browns and blacks. When they reached Satsuki, she was exclaiming something inaudible, pointing enthusiastically towards a stall.

When looking to Aomine for help, he merely shrugged.

Satsuki shouldered her way towards them. "Yakitori!" she cried over the crowd.

The four of them formed a misshapen circle, a defensive habit that hindered the flow of the crowd. Satsuki looked excitedly at them all, although it was an enthusiasm shared only by Rika, who loved yakitori – which was essentially grilled chicken – more than she did most people.

"I'm going to go get some," Rika decided, "Anyone else what some?"

Satsuki's purse was out in seconds, ready to hand Rika the money. "I hope it's enough. I only want two, thanks."

The taller girl nodded resolutely, cast Yasuka a questioning stare to which the other girl shook her head.

"Be back in a second." Rika proclaimed, before stalking off through the crowd. Given her height and fiercely intimidating air, the crowd parted easily before her.

"You know, I wasn't sure if you would actually come." Satsuki revealed, nudging Yasuka in the side.

"How come?"

"I heard you were turning down invitations."

Aomine shifted his weight, suddenly and strangely uncomfortable. "From who?" he asked, suspiciously calm.

Yasuka replied in a casual tone. "Yuki, firstly. But also two other guys and my sister, although I don't think she wanted to come. She was just nervous because Imayoshi asked her over tonight and wanted an excuse not to go, or something like that."

"She should just say no then." Aomine pointed out, neglecting the other people she had mentioned.

"Except she's dumb, and dumber for genuinely liking him." Yasuka argued.

"Does she know what he's really like?" piped Satsuki.

Yasuka nodded darkly, though her reply was withheld as she spotted Rika returning. Already, she had one of the yakitori in her mouth, while three more were held precariously in one hand. Satsuki met her halfway with a nod and overly-friendly thanks upon receiving the two she had paid for.

The two resumed their places in the circle once more. "Could you check my phone?" Rika asked, raising the hand with her bag hanging from the wrist. To explain, she added plainly, "My fingers are sticky."

"You should have more pride." Yasuka admonished, but took the bag anyway.

"I have plenty of pride."

"I meant in your appearance."

"That too."

After recovering the phone from amidst the trash in Rika's purse, she turned the screen on. "One message from the Boy."

"What's it say?"

"And who's 'the boy'?" added Satsuki.

"Rika's boyfriend," Yasuka nonchalantly replied, earning her a stern glare, "Also the message says, _here_."

Brown eyes flew open wide, and the yakitori almost slipped from her mouth. It was then Yasuka understood the situation properly. "Tell Atsushi-" Rika began to order, only was cut off suddenly.

"_Good. Tell me where and I'll come find you,_" Yasuka read out aloud was she was typing in reply, "And I'll add a love heart emoji…and it's sent!"

"_Yasuka!_"

This time, however, it was Aomine who interrupted them. "Atsushi?" he questioned, the taste of familiarity on his tongue.

Rika would have liked to cross her arms, but couldn't for as long as she held the food in her hand. "Yeah, Atsushi Murasakibara. He went to Teiko with you three, and played basketball with you, Aomine." She clarified, unsurprisingly eager to discuss the target of her affections.

"…You never mentioned he went to Teiko," Yasuka muttered, before coming to the realisation that, "Oh, wasn't he that freakishly tall one?"

"Yeah, that's him." Aomine confirmed.

"You went to middle school with us, Yasuka?" Satsuki cried, having not previously known this.

"Yes, but I had long hair then. It's amazing how different I looked."

"Was Rika there as well?"

"No. We've been in different schools our whole-"

The girl in question cut in, fixing everyone with a pointed look. "This has been great and all," Rika declared loudly, "But you're giving me a headache and I have someone to go meet," she paused for breath and also to snatch her mobile back, "So I'll see you later!"

There was a departing silence among the three, who watched in quiet company as Rika turned around. It was Yasuka, who had become accustomed to her abrupt nature, who called out, "I'll call you later!"

Her motives were a mix. Firstly, she wanted to make sure Rika would have gotten home safe. But, second to that, she had plans to force the details of the evening out of her. No one went to a festival like this, alone with a boy, without expecting it to be a date.

"Hey, you two, I think I need to go to the toilet," Satsuki broke the tension with a cheery interruption, "Wait here for me."

"We'll wait on that seat." Aomine amended, pointing through the crowd. It was less of a seat and more like the edge to a bed box for plants.

Satsuki barely had the time to nod before they parted ways. Aomine was pushing his way through the crowd, glaring down at anyone in his way. Yasuka was quick to hurry after, following the wake of space he left after him. When they reached the clear area at the edge of the crowd, Yasuka was finally able to glance around. From the lack of coloured hair, it was easily discernable that Satsuki had left as well.

Yasuka took a hesitant perch on the bricks behind her, praying that she wouldn't sit in something that would destroy her cream-coloured yukata forever. Aomine watched her quietly, waiting until she was settled before breaching the unusual strain between them.

"You look…nice."

She stared up at him. "Really? Because you don't sound too sure."

"Well, I am. You look nice."

Her grin widened, though the compliment seemed small. "Thank you, Aomine."

While Yasuka might usually have said something witty or insulting in reply, she held her tongue for the time being. If Aomine thought she looked nice, Yasuka could find satisfaction knowing her goals had been met.

"Hey, Aomine," Yasuka's bland attempt at conversation continued to further their awkwardness, "Why'd you come?"

He glanced across at her. "I wasn't going to. But I like the fireworks." He lied, because the reason was so obvious – right in front of his nose, even.

"Oh."

"Why does it matter?"

"I was trying to make conversation, not that you'd know what it is. I don't think we've ever had a proper conversation before."

"We have."

She laughed lightly. "Arguments and threats?" she guessed.

"They're close enough." declared Aomine, shrugging in his apathy.

"Whatever," Yasuka sighed, "Since you're here, I'm gonna make sure you have some fun. We could have a go at some of the festival games with Satsuki."

"So I can prove just how strong I am? You should know by now," Aomine inched closer to her, "the _only_ one who can beat me-"

"Oh, shut up, you idiot. I'm sure I could teach you a thing or two."

Aomine snorted derisively, lapsing into silence as thought persisted. "Just how long does it take Satsuki to go to the toilet?" he growled.

Yasuka noted the impatient twitching of his fingers. "Maybe she-"

_Yamechae isso yana koto nante…_

It was the new song from that popular girl group, 'SNSD'. It echoed around the air, almost disguised by festival noise, but still loud enough to startle the pair. Yasuka was wide-eyed, searching for a source that led her to stare at Aomine for a good while.

"Satsuki was the one who set it as my ringtone!" he cried, as if it was believable.

"Yeah, whatever you say, macho man."

"Piss off." He muttered, absently pulling his phone from his pocket. "It's from Satsuki."

"What's it say?" asked Yasuka, leaning closer so that she could read the text over his shoulder.

"_I met up with Kuroko. Don't wait for me, maybe I'll catch you again later._"

"Are you kidding me?" Yasuka snarled.

"No. But there's nothing we can do."

Yasuka jumped to her feet, facing Aomine. "Well, actually, do you wanna just keep walking around together?"

He stared up at her, eyebrows furrowing. "Like, as in…?" he ventured.

"Let's go!" she cheered, determinedly set on ignoring his question.

Aomine stayed sitting for a moment longer, knowing that if he had made the effort to come, he really had no choice. A lengthy exhale went unheard in the noise of the crowd, before Aomine reluctantly stood.

As he passed by Yasuka, his hand shot out around her wrist. She was tugged along after him, startled by a sudden contact that was foreign to them both. Yasuka, for all that pretended to be, was not overly familiar with affection.

"So we don't get separated." Aomine explained, looking back as he ventured towards the crowd.

Yasuka didn't really care, too absorbed in her thoughts and the feeling of his fingers intertwined with hers.

It was a false hope, but it didn't stop her from thinking it – it really did seem like a date.

* * *

**I feel like I should just say that the "festival" arc of this story will be spread over three chapters (though the third is a bit ambiguous). I felt like there was quite of a bit progression in these scenes that it would be easier to read if it were broken down - and this chapter is already my longest.**

**Huge thanks to all my readers and any future readers!**

**Next chapter: trouble comes in many forms, in many of the ways that Yasuka least expects. She could never have guessed the heights this night would reach - after all, there had never been anything wrong with a little healthy competition.**


	14. when fantasies are shared: part 2

_**14 – when fantasies are shared: part 2**_

Under the light of lantern strings, half hidden by the shade of a cherry blossom tree, Yasuka stood. She carried her purse in one hand, a bag of fairy floss in the other. As the onlookers passed by, she tore a piece away and placed it against her lips.

Aomine didn't break eye contact with her even as she swallowed.

"Damn it." He swore.

"I'm not sharing."

"You will. If I beat you."

"Oh, please. In what game?"

Aomine glanced around, scanning the crowded street for an option. "That one." He declared, pointing across the street.

"The 'knock-em-down' can game?" she asked, to which he nodded.

Yasuka, though sending him a stern look, eventually let her posture drop. "Let's go." She decided. "One game, and you can have the fairy floss if you knock more cans over than me."

"Bring it."

"You bet I can."

As with before, Aomine seized her hand. Though their fingers didn't curl around each other, and Yasuka's yukata sleeve fell forward to disguise it, he held her hand just as steadily as he had been doing before. Poor excuses were in abundance that night, beginning with Satsuki ditching the two of them for the toilet.

It didn't take long to figure out her true motives, taking into account that Satsuki was dead certain Yasuka liked Aomine.

Once safely across the street, having avoided the shifting movements of the masses, Yasuka stepped forward towards the stall manager.

"Two games, thanks."

"Sure thing. It's three shots per game." The man said, even as he handed over the red, plastic balls.

Aomine took them, before shooting a cocky grin in her direction.

"I'll go first." Yasuka cut in, facing the pyramid of cans.

There were six in total, three on the bottom. She knew her best chance of winning big was to hit one out from the bottom row, but as she lifted her arm and threw the ball – she missed.

When she tried the second time, the ball flew through the air. It arched upwards, grazing the top can. It clattered to the ground, and though it was just one hit, Yasuka couldn't resist showing Aomine her smug expression.

"Tch." He scoffed.

"Shut up and let me concentrate."

Yasuka prepped for her third throw by imagine his face. Smug, arrogant, despicable – and just the tiniest bit attractive. As the ball fled her fingers, she knew she had messed up. Aomine was always finding ways to distract her, however unintentionally. But it hardly changed the course of the ball, which knocked over only two more cans.

"Good try." The stall runner enthused, smiling pityingly.

Yasuka managed a half-smile in turn, but said nothing as he gathered her choice of prize.

"So you have a pick of the slinky, or the beanie." The man explained, offering the two items.

Yasuka had only to look at the pink, cat-shaped beanie to decide. "Definitely the beanie." It even had crappy, sewed-on cat ears.

"There you go then. Now, young man, it's your turn."

Aomine wasn't listening. It seemed his competitive spirit had been awaken, as he rolled his shoulders back and cricked his neck. The look in his eyes, Yasuka thought, could even be called demonic.

"I'll show you how it's done." He vowed to Yasuka. She took a step back, tucking the beanie into her yukata's floral-printed obi.

Aomine kept the ball in his hand, securely gripped. Perhaps it had been a bad idea to take him on the bet – he was Tōō's ace after all. When Aomine threw the ball, it was all in a blur too fast for her eyes to track. It sped through the air, and Yasuka had only the time to notice Aomine's faint smirk, before the pile of cans all but exploded.

They went in all directions, knocking the entire pyramid over as they toppled. While Yasuka and the man in the stall stared in open amazement, Aomine let his hand fall and not much else; he refused to let anyone believe he had actually tried.

"Shit." She murmured.

"I- uh, your prize!" the stall manager declared. "You can pick either that giant white bunny, or the panda."

Yasuka slid towards Aomine. "Pick the panda." She ordered.

"Shut up, it's my choice." He hissed back.

Yasuka took another step closer, placing her free hand on his shoulder to aid her as she stood on her tiptoes. "_Please_?"

He glanced at her, before rolling his eyes. "Fine, the panda."

The man in the stall nodded, before beginning to unhook the toy from the wall. Yasuka was smiling brightly, thoroughly pleased that she had gotten her way.

"Fairy floss." Aomine reminded.

Pouting, though trying to be angry, Yasuka thrust the bag at him. Aomine took it in one hand, smirking triumphantly.

"Here you go." The man announced, holding the stuffed panda out towards them.

Yasuka, now with both hands free, stepped forward to take the toy. It was, despite her height, almost the half her length, or would have been had it not been designed to look like it was sitting.

"Thanks so much!" Yasuka said cheerily.

Though the man looked like he was tempted to say something, probably about them not coming again for fear of losing all his prizes, Yasuka was already turning away.

"Hurry up." Aomine called over his shoulder.

With the bear held securely in her arms, Yasuka forced her way through the crowd and towards her companion. Considering that the night was drawing on, the press of people was beginning to thin out. Most were assembling for the annual fireworks show.

Recalling Aomine's declaration that he came specifically to see them, Yasuka asked, "Do you want go find somewhere to sit down? Before the fireworks start?"

"That's what we're doing."

"Hey, don't get shitty with me; I was just asking."

"And it was a dumb question."

"Well, _sorry_ for not being able to _read your mind_." Yasuka retorted with heavy sarcasm.

Aomine felt his irritation "Do you ever shut up?"

"Will you ever stop being a jerk?"

As he had nothing more to say on the matter, he held his silence and she held hers. Yasuka had to keep a brisk pace to even keep up. It was a credit to Aomine that Yasuka trusted him enough to follow his lead, without ever asking where they were going.

As it turned out, Aomine was leading them away from the festival. The streets around the area cut into a small hill. Trees of varying ages lined the way, their leaves littering the ground. The night had long since come, a darkness lit only by the stars. It didn't bother Yasuka in the slightest – she loved the night.

"So, Aomine?"

"What?"

"Do you want the toy?"

"Why the hell would I?"

Yasuka grinned to herself. "So I can keep it, then?"

He turned to stare at her. "Why?" he wondered.

"Why not? You can't just want to throw it out, can you?"

Aomine stopped walking for the moment. He faced her, frowning for no particular reason. Yasuka had supposed it was just how he looked when in thought. "So can I?" she insisted.

"If you want." He said dismissively.

Her lips curved into a small smile. "Thank you, Aomine."

"It's not a big deal."

"But I should give you something in return, right?" Yasuka knew her plan was coming to fruition. There wasn't much she found interesting anymore, though Aomine had the right to claim he was exactly that. It was why Yasuka loved to tease him so much.

He shrugged lightly, before almost being knocked over to the ground. "Hold this." Yasuka ordered, shoving the giant panda into his arms, one of which still clutched the bag of fairy floss.

Aomine opened his mouth to argue, only Yasuka never gave him the chance. She was reaching for the beanie, safely tucked into her obi this entire time. He thought it looked horrible, a crappy little hat made for little girls as a consolation prize. Yasuka could probably have guessed his thoughts by the scowl he wore.

"Here you go." She proclaimed, before stepping forward and jamming the beanie onto his head.

"Ow! Nakamura, you fu-"

"But you look so _cute_, Aho-mine!"

Yasuka stepped closer, reaching up to adjust the hat. Aomine glared down at her, but she merely smiled and flicked one of the ears. It was surprising to have to stand on her toes to be tall enough to look straight into his eyes. She'd never noticed that his irises were darker around the outside.

Aomine found that he froze, even if it was just for a second. He, in a way he never had before, lacked the will to push her away – he _liked_ being this close. He could almost see the breath pass from her lips, coloured pink with lipstick. Even her eyes, a simple green, seemed more magnetic than usual. Perhaps it was the smudges of black around them, where she had accidently rubbed her mascara off.

Yasuka didn't seem so untouchable now.

Maybe that was why he leaned in closer, feeling like the fireworks had already begun.

Maybe that was why he kissed her.

* * *

**Please feel free to leave a review! It can be about literally anything (your thoughts, what you think will happen next, good or bad). I don't really have much more to add...**

**Next chapter: Fireworks. They shoot up, explode so suddenly - leaving behind nothing but a smoky trail. Aomine can't help but think of the whole thing as a little idealistic.**


	15. one before the other, and run

**Going on holidays tomorrow, so an early update for you guys! **

* * *

_**15 – one before the other, and run**_

They walked together, but in silence.

There was only one reason and that because in the complete and utter silence, they didn't have to speak. They didn't have to think about anyone but themselves, and could become completely absorbed in their own thoughts. It was such a terrible tragedy that Yasuka could do no such thing.

The memory of that kiss lingered on her lips. She wondered if Aomine felt the same.

Even after, when he had told her _sorry_ and that _it was a mistake_, he had insisted on walking her home. She couldn't contend with the argument that it wasn't safe for her alone, considering she had been caught in such situation before. But it was a cruel joke that the world had played, when she wanted to be alone right now. It wasn't fair of Aomine to play with her like this.

At least she had been lucky enough that he was too dense to realise she liked him, and that she had kissed him back.

The silence shattered when Aomine cleared his throat with an obvious cough.

"What?" she asked, playing calm.

"Can we stop for a moment?"

Without another word, Yasuka stood still. Aomine was persistent in not looking in her direction, even as he handed her that giant toy panda from earlier that night. Though it had been a good twenty minutes since the 'incident', it wasn't until now that he also remembered to pull off that pink cat-eared beanie on his head.

"Keep the hat." Yasuka decided.

"I don't want it."

"Then throw it out. But we traded prizes, so it's still yours."

"Fine." He sounded like a bratty child when he spoke in that tone. It probably wasn't too far off the truth.

Yasuka waited a second longer, before continuing the walk to her house. Aomine trailed along after her, carrying the remnants of what had been a nice night. By now, most of the fairy floss had been eaten and the bag stuffed away in his pocket.

Yasuka breached the tension with a heavy sigh. "You don't need to walk me the entire way."

"It's fine."

"Isn't it really out of your way?"

"I said _it's fine_."

Her eyebrow jerked in scepticism, but she said nothing more. He was too on-edge, and she really wasn't in the mood for fighting. In fact, what she felt like doing was –

A boom rocked the sky, accompanying a kaleidoscopic explosion of colours.

Yasuka stopped still in her tracks. Aomine, who was walking behind her, had to jerk back so he didn't run right into her. "What the hell, Nakamura?"

She turned on her feet, spinning around so that she faced Aomine, but look right past him. "You said you wanted to see the fireworks." She offered.

"Huh?" Another firework was shot into the air just as he spoke.

Aomine whirled around in the same direction. His eyes looked to the sky, catching the reflection of red sparks. The fireworks continued to burst brilliant arrays of colour, like blooming flowers. Both of them harboured fond memories of moment like these – and now, they were adding another to their collections.

"Sometimes, I think the smoke trail they leave behind is more interesting than the actual firework." Yasuka murmured.

"Why?"

"I mean, sure the fireworks are pretty. But if they were people, they'd be like you. Just tearing through life, not thinking about the mess they leave behind."

"That's idealistic and stupid, Nakamura."

"Are you saying you're _not_ selfish, then?" she asked pointedly.

Aomine looked tempted to argue, but it would have been pointless to deny an obvious truth. "You are too." He remarked coolly.

"Yeah, but at least I _try_ to think about other people."

Momentarily, he tore his eyes from the sky. "What makes you think I don't?"

Yasuka felt the answer present itself, however loathe she was to talk about the subject. "Like," she paused briefly, "How you didn't ask if I wanted to kiss you."

"I thought you didn't want to talk about that."

"I don't."

"Then don't bring it up."

"How come? Does it bother _you_?" Yasuka inquired, hoping for an answer she hadn't yet decided she would want.

Aomine didn't reply, refraining for the sake of both their prides. He would rather enjoy the fireworks in silence, than argue with her. After a long moment of intense staring, Yasuka seemed to understand and turned towards the sky once more.

She loved the night. There didn't have to be a moon, or stars, or fireworks for it to be scary. Yasuka knew that fear firsthand, but the recent years had taught her to control it. The dark offered her a comfort no one else had, and it was where she could be herself. Being around Aomine, under these circumstances, was going to alter how she felt, though Yasuka couldn't predict in what way.

Green light flashed across her sky, before a blue and gold firework fizzled to life. Some of them, Yasuka couldn't even hear being shot up – they simply appeared.

"It doesn't bother me."

"Huh?" Yasuka blurted, startled out of her silence.

"It doesn't," repeated Aomine, "_That_ meant nothing."

"_Nothing_ at _all_?"

Aomine nodded, while Yasuka laughed. "No one kisses me without it meaning _something_." She told him matter-of-factly.

"It was a mistake. I shouldn't have done it, so it means nothing. Stop pretending that everyone worships you, Nakamura. You're just a high school student."

"You idiot, that's the point," Yasuka replied, "I know I'm just a high school student; the game is getting them to think I'm not."

"It's not a game."

Yasuka rolled her eyes. "Of course it is."

"Idiot."

"Shut up, Aho-mine."

"I wish you'd stop calling me that." He muttered under his breath.

"As opposed to what?" Yasuka replied. She had called Aomine by his last name, the alternative of it, for as long as she had known him.

"Anything." Aomine declared.

"Like…Daiki?" At this point, Yasuka was more intent on teasing him than being angry.

"I don't care."

"You know what people would think if I called you that at school?"

"I don't care, Nakamura. I told you it meant nothing."

"Liar." She muttered.

"You just can't believe I'm not interested in a brat like you." Aomine argued.

In the distance, the fireworks were finishing off. A series of great, big pops echoed through the night. As they watched each other, their skin glowed from the array of colours in the sky.

"Everyone's interested in me." Yasuka objected.

"Well, I'm _not_."

She huffed loudly. "You can just piss off then, if you really don't care."

More for the sake of the argument than anything else, Aomine retorted, "I will. I'm sicking of acting like a babysitter."

"I'm not a baby! And I can walk myself home, thank you very much."

"_Good_." Aomine lied.

With one last, sweeping glance over her, Aomine turned to leave. He almost felt like he was committing her to memory. Her yukata was now creased, her lipstick long-since faded. Though her features were fairly androgynous, her livid blush seemed distinctly feminine. It was the first time Aomine had ever considered her beautiful – but it was ridiculous to think he could care.

"_Hey_!"

Aomine jerked back around at the piercing sound of her voice. "What?"

Though the words seemed perched at the tip of her tongue, Yasuka felt her courage slip. "…Forget it." She called out a moment later.

He gave her a look, a mix of scepticism and amusement, before turning his back to her. Yasuka could insist on being angry all she wanted, but it was a false feeling. She lied to herself when she tried telling herself that it didn't matter when he had been the one to spoil the night. Really, he had done anything but.

Things were going to be a little more complicated, that was all.

Aomine was realizing this as he looked towards the sky. The smoky trails from the fireworks lingered still. _At least_ – Aomine smiled to himself.

At least when they were fighting, it was easier to understand.

* * *

**Ah, so that's the aftermath. Fairly anti-climatic, seeing as they both arent really ready to acknowledge the kiss (or their feelings). Guess the lack of conclusion means this story will go on for a bit longer (a good thing, right?).**

**Thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed so far! I love hearing your reactions and guesses about what might happen next (some of which are spot on). Reviews are honest to god like energy for a writer, even though I've finished this story. I've still got one chapter left for my next story (Free!, Rin/OC) so hopefully I'll get that posted in a few weeks.**

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

**Next chapter: They might pretend that everything is normal, but it's hard to ignore such blatant changes. Aomine, in particular, feels the need for change the most - and he has never had any particular limits as to how far he will go. **


	16. those with misguided ideals

_**16 – those with misguided ideals**_

"You're kidding, right? Or am I dreaming?"

Yasuka couldn't quit her pacing, and Rika couldn't quit saying it. "It's not a big deal."

"Of course it is!" Yasuka cried into her phone, "Aren't you happy? Aren't you crying with delight? Screaming? Don't you want to just run and scream his name from the rooftop – Let everyone know that _you_ are Murasakibara's _girlfriend?_"

Considering she was on the rooftop of her own school, it wasn't surprising to find there was one other person with her. "I didn't think you could be this oblivious." Aomine remarked, breaking his silence.

"Shut up, Aho-mine." Yasuka retorted, aiming a soft kick at his leg.

From the phone in her hand, Rika's sigh echoed. "Of course that idiot is with you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.

"It's like you're attached at the hip."

"No it's not…is it?"

"Yup. It's not surprising, considering you've kiss-"

Yasuka blanched. "We don't talk about that. It's all in the past."

"It happened a week ago." Rika deadpanned.

"In the _past_."

"Will you shut up Nakamura, I'm _trying_ to sleep." interjected Aomine.

"Go sleep somewhere else. I was here first."

Aomine grumbled something under his breath, but held his peace. Yasuka watched him for a moment, before taking a seat just by his knees. Aomine opened one eye to watch her, expression curious, but she ignored him as easily as she did most problems.

"Give me the details." Yasuka ordered Rika.

There was pause on her end of the line. "Well, I told you about when he said he liked me."

"Yes, ages ago. You're both idiots for not addressing the real issue between you."

"Ha, that's rich coming from you."

"_Meaning_?" Yasuka retorted, intending for it to be rhetorical.

"You know what I mean." Rika said. It wasn't hard to imagine her shrugging as she spoke.

Yasuka huffed irritably. "Unfortunately – and it's still none of your business."

"Hypocrite."

"Shut up."

A snort echoed from the speaker. Yasuka hid her smile from the world, burying her face into her hands.

"Just tell me what happened before lunch ends, at least." The dark haired girl sighed, not long before a pained groan escaped her when someone jabbed her in the side.

"What the hell was that?" Rika muttered, unable to see what was happening.

"_Aho-mine!_"

And there was Rika's answer. Since the beginning of that year, he was always at the root of her problems, although he pretended otherwise. Yasuka turned to him, only to see Aomine pretending to be sleeping peacefully – though the lack of snoring assured her he wasn't.

"Hang on Rika, I've got a pest to kill." Yasuka muttered into the phone, before placing it to the side. Whatever Rika might have replied with went unheard, spoken to the air.

She had someone to deal with, and Yasuka began by slamming her hands beside his head. He opened his eyes, gazing up with bleary, blue eyes.

"What?" he asked.

"Touch me again and I'll break your fingers, _Daiki_."

"I don't believe you." He yawned.

Yasuka felt her lips twist into a scowl. "You want me to prove it?"

Again, there was that odd look. It kept appearing – growing in frequency and intensity since the festival. Yasuka couldn't name it, and even if she could, she would be afraid to. The possibilities of what he meant with such a look were frightening. Aomine didn't think things like that, not about her.

"Fine." He snapped at last.

Next she knew, it was Yasuka who had her back to the ground. Aomine had flipped them with too much ease – she getting out of practise – a hand on her waist and the other on her shoulder. She would have squirmed under the weight, uncomfortable as his leg rested in between hers.

"Prove it." He teased, leaning closer.

Yasuka frowned. "Idiot. I wouldn't do it at school; I'd be expelled in two seconds flat. Now get off me."

As if only just then realising their proximity, Aomine knelt back. Yasuka sidled backwards, until she could sit up as well.

"Piss off." She muttered.

"I will."

"Good."

"It is."

"I know it is."

"And I don't care." concluded Aomine. He brushed himself down as he stood, more for the sake of wiping the dust from his hands. It left a dirty smear on his school pants, though Yasuka was the only one who cared enough to notice it.

Aomine began to scale the ladder down towards the door, just as she reached for her phone. The wind brushed past them, toying with her hair as much as one could, given its length – or lack thereof. From the angle, he could see her lips press together in a thin line, her emotions always threatening the apathy she prized so highly. It should have been obvious why he had wanted to be on the rooftop that lunchtime.

All the same, her desire for protection, to protect and be protected, was pathetic and slightly annoying.

Aomine was just stepping inside when her cry echoed after him.

"_Rika hung up on me_!"

He stifled a smile and kept walking.

Below, the steps descended into the school hallway, which seemed empty if not for the distant clamour of voices. It was hard to see in the dark, but Aomine had climbed the stairway enough times to know it predictably. Even the shadows had become familiar.

It was because of that that he knew he wasn't alone – one shadow was out of place.

Aomine had no intention of speaking to the unknown student as he passed by. He liked ignoring people, and he liked it when they ignored him. It took only a hand on his shoulder to decide how he felt about this guy.

"What?" Aomine growled.

"I'm not going to hurt you." The other replied. In the dim light, Aomine could make out that he had orange hair and shrewd features.

"I didn't ask about that and I don't care. What do you want?" he repeated.

"Do you know Yasuo?"

"Huh?" It took him a few moments to realise that he meant Yasuka. She had only ever mentioned her alias in passing around him. "…Maybe."

The orange-haired student nodded. "You do."

"How do- You followed us!" He remembered it distinctly. It had been after the game with Seirin, and he and Yasuka had encountered their basketball team by sheer coincidence. He had marked down that watched feeling to paranoia and exhaustion.

"Yeah, well, our leader wanted information on them." The guy explained, as if it were some sort of justification.

When he said 'them', Aomine realised that Yasuka's identity hadn't been as well hidden as she had let on. Granted, she was fairly boyish without all the makeup and dresses. The irrelevancy of it all to him got on his nerves – it was all Yasuka's fault for wanting to lie in the first place.

"So?" Aomine wondered disinterestedly.

"_So_. Who is Yasuo, because he isn't who he says he is."

He scoffed. "I'm not going to tell someone like you." Idiot though she named him, Aomine wasn't dumb enough to snitch to the gang that rivalled Yasuka's.

"It's not to hurt her, ya know." The boy continued coolly, arrogantly. "Seiji's interested in Yasuo, and he's not going to injure someone he wants to know more from."

Aomine scowled deeply. "I don't care. Don't bother me with something like this again."

As the blue-haired basketballer decided that there was no reason to remain, he began to keep walking. He made it four steps down, before halting at the declaration thrown his way.

"I can guess the answer. I can go up there, and I can ask Nakamura why she started hanging around you about the same time that Yasuo did. Or we can leave her out of it all, and you tell me the truth about Yasuo."

Aomine hated these games. Manipulation was never his style or strongpoint, but he understood it when faced with it. This guy seemed to think he cared about Yasuka.

"Go and ask her then." Aomine remarked. No doubt she'd break that guy's fingers for it.

Yasuka's entire life seemed to be about keeping her trouble, her problems, away from everyone else. Aomine had known her long enough to tell that, and if he drew any conclusions about her character at all, it would be this; she spent so much time keeping others safe and happy, that she forgot about herself.

For that, Aomine thought she was an idiot.

It was also that small voice in the back of his head that tipped his metaphorical hand. She was that persistent itch he could never scratch until this moment, a bundle of annoyance that hid something better. She might not ever consider herself, but Aomine certainly had.

"I thought you liked her?" the orange-haired guy told him.

"That's none of your business," retorted Aomine, much too suddenly, "And you're wasting my time. Piss off."

"What about Yasuo?"

"What about it?" In a way, it wasn't really betrayal – though Aomine was going to have trouble explaining that to the girl in question. "Yasuo is obviously Nakamura."

* * *

**Whenever I post the next chapter, I realise how weak the plot is in some places :/ It's kinda annoying, but at least I think I can write the sappy stuff okay? (hopefully).**

**Anyway, shit's gonna go down in the next chapter. Hope you're all looking forward to it~**

**next chapter: Aomine's intended slip up is going to cost him - but it was a price he was willing to pay. He was prepared for her anger, if only the tension would end and then the resolutions could begin.**


	17. again is not always forever

_**17 – again is not always forever**_

Making it through the following week had been struggle for Aomine. He was plagued with paranoia, a sense of foreboding. For some unfathomable reason, he had expected Yasuka to know what he had done by now.

But, like usual, he was walking her home. The awkward silence between them, usually his own doing, now seemed matched.

Resenting it, Aomine searched for the right words to break the tension.

"You're annoying." Granted, eloquence had never been his forte.

"What?" Yasuka replied, startled.

"You're annoying. You're too quiet." Aomine declared.

"That's a problem?"

"It is now."

"You're the one who's always telling me to shut up." Yasuka retorted.

Aomine shoved his hands into his pockets, attempting to play cool. "For a reason."

"Whatever, Aomine."

"Daiki," he corrected, "You can call me Daiki if you want."

"No thanks." dismissed Yasuka with a haughty air. She let her head tilt higher, her steps growing discernibly longer.

Aomine felt a muscle in his jaw twitch as his teeth ground together. "Do you have a stick up your ass?"

"That's the same as asking if you're capable of being nice – _no_." She countered.

"Tch. That's only because brats like you don't deserve special treatment."

"I'm not a brat!"

"You look like one."

"If you're insinuating that I'm flat-chested, I'll have you know that you're very misinformed. I could even prove it." Her declaration wasn't without truth. From the top of her head, she knew of at least four guys who would testify for her – though, truthfully, Yasuka was just eager to look for a reason to be angry at him. She had been in need of one all day.

"Whatever." Aomine yawned.

Surprisingly, Yasuka dropped the subject just as easily. The determined silence earned her a strange look from Aomine. She ignored him, both out of irritation and to be irritating.

"What's with that look?" Aomine queried, studying her from the corner of his eye. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, a frown creasing her forehead.

Her nose wrinkled in distaste, before her scarred hand acted as a brace against her forehead. "You irritate me." She sighed.

"So?"

"What gives you the right to interfere with my life?"

There it was. The reason for it all, a question Aomine had yet to answer properly. "…How'd you find out?" he asked hesitantly, wary of her reaction.

"Text. One of my friends ran into Seiji's guys, and they passed the message along. When I saw them yesterday, they told me what happened."

Aomine felt his breath die in his throat. "I didn't do it to-"

"Shut up," snapped Yasuka, "I'm not interested in your excuses."

"It's not an excuse; it's an explanation!"

The storm of emotions that had been gathering since the previous afternoon continued stirring. As sudden has a flash of lightening, her anger spilled out. "_Explain it then_!"

Aomine struggled to rein his anger. "Because you wouldn't have done it on your own."

"That's not your call to make!"

"So what? You like having to lie to everyone around you? You can't tell me you like pretending to be someone that you're not because that's bullshit."

"I like it when other people like me, Aomine. It's a simple concept – I like being liked."

Aomine felt his jaw clench, eyes narrowing. "Except they don't even _know you_."

"And neither do you," she retorted, "If you're willing to jeopardise my safety, and the safety of everyone I know-!"

"Come off it, Nakamura. The guy said that Seiji didn't want to hurt you, and he sounded like he was pretty damn certain who you were already." Aomine argued.

"What if he's lying? You're such a _complete_, utter _dickhead_-!" Yasuka ended the sentence with a frustrated groan.

Seeing that she had stopped walking, Aomine did the same. He turned back to her, expecting to come face to face with the personification of anger, but was met with the sight of her back. Yasuka's fingers slid through her hair, pushing the short locks away from her face. When she turned, it was with green eyes flashing furiously but an expression calmer than predicted.

It only proved Aomine right – she bottled everything up.

"You still haven't answered me," Yasuka pointed out, "Why'd you tell the Morita gang who I really am?"

Aomine, hands still shoved into his pockets, replied hastily. "Because I thought it might help. I don't like liars, and if you need to lie to protect yourself, you're weak. Except I know you're not weak or pathetic, and you don't need to pretend to be anyone but yourself. People like you just fine as you are – but you're too much of an idiot to realise that on your own. Now that it's not a problem anymore, you can be happy."

"_Aomine_." Yasuka spoke his name harshly, as a way of calling for attention.

"What?"

_"You had no right._"

"You'll thank me later." He asserted confidently.

"You are the most _arrogant_, shit-brained, _selfish_ _jerk_ I have _ever_ met!" Yasuka accused, angry tears springing to her eyes, "How dare you think you're entitled to mess about the lives of anyone! I never said I was comfortable with people knowing me, and I never said I wanted people to know. I thought I explained why no one from the Morita gang could know who I was-"

"And that was a pathetic excuse. You know that you're really just afraid," Aomine stepped closer, unintentionally mockingly, "You're afraid of rejection."

The truth slammed against her ears with all the power of a thunderclap. As if it could help, Yasuka squeezed her eyes shut and willed Aomine to disappear. He wasn't – he couldn't – be allowed to see this much of her.

That must have been why he did it, told her rivals her true name – he had realised that he didn't like Yasuka that much after all.

"Shut up! Shut up! I don't believe you – you're a liar and you only want to 'destroy' me!"

They sounded hollow even to her own ears, like an echo heard from a great distance.

Aomine swore lowly, under his breath, as his frustration began to blossom. As Yasuka looked ready to run, he grabbed her wrists and held her firmly in place. She squirmed on the spot, looking away so that her expression was less visible. She couldn't trust him with her tears.

"You should hear yourself, idiot." He growled.

"You never do anything to help anyone." She insisted, earnest because _that_ was something she could call the truth.

Aomine agreed, in part. He didn't just do it for the sake of being helpful. It was also because-

"I like you."

Her eyes flew open. Her nose was burning red, as were her cheeks, while the rest of her felt numb and she had to wonder if her heart could go so long without beating.

"You _like_ _me_?" Yasuka breathed. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means I like you!" Aomine, without realizing it, tightened his grip.

Yasuka winced, attempting to step back. She said the first thing that came to her head, because whatever words they were they would be more honest than anything else she could think of.

"It means _nothing_."

"Jeez, you just-!"

"No, Aomine, listen to me. It doesn't mean anything right now. It doesn't mean you have any sort of power over me, it doesn't give you any privilege, and it doesn't mean that I owe you anything."

Aomine struggled to keep from yelling, and in that respect, failed. "You wanted an explanation!" he insisted defensively.

"Yeah, and now I understand that you are the biggest fucking prick I have ever met!"

Aomine opened his mouth to retort. The tension, the fury radiating between them, was shared and heightened by each other. For a second, he thought that he had pulled Yasuka towards him. It was strange, because he almost wanted to kiss her. That opportunity never presented itself.

Yasuka wasted no time, bringing her knee to his groin. She hit like a girl – _hard_.

"Don't ever speak to me again, Aomine."

He keeled over, brought to the ground too easily to retain any pride. Yasuka seemed to have no trouble walking around him, not restraining herself any longer.

She wanted to be cold and unfeeling. It was more welcoming than the hurt of betrayal.

"At least," she added, "Unless you feel like apologising."

She carried herself as if her heart wasn't at all a bruised and battered thing.

* * *

**It's a little frightening how few chapters there are left. At least I have a few other ideas to occupy my attention, not to mention I finally got that Rin/OC Free! fic posted.**

**Thanks for reading (always and forever)!**

**Next chapter: Yasuka is getting rather sick of being told the same thing, over and over again. She thinks it's stupid, that they're wrong, never considering her own stubbornness. It takes one who knows her better to get through to Yasuka - and her sister is just the person for the job.**


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